I've Got it All Most
by The Mighty Mouse
Summary: Oliver Wood/OC... Sixth year student, Riley Harlow, lives for quidditch. You'd think she enjoys being a Gryffindor chaser, right? Wrong. Her and the team captain, Oliver Wood, don't really see eye to eye. However, what happens when one night changes that all? Rated M mostly for language...
1. Chapter 1: A Rather Unfortunate Event

A Rather Unfortunate Event

Dear God, I hate him. I bloody _hate _him. Harlow, do this. Harlow, do that. I looked up and shot him a death glare while completing my seventy ninth push up. Standing in front of me was no other than my vile Quidditch captain, Oliver Wood. Needless to say, we did not get along very well. Actually "not getting along" might have been an understatement; we loathed one another. Truly and utterly _loathed_. He was a huge dick to me, so I returned the gesture by being a major bitch.

"Hurry up, Harlow," he muttered. Practice was just about over, but he couldn't leave until I finished with the one hundred push ups which he'd made me do. Fred and George peered over his shoulder from behind him and sighed before trying to reason with him.

"Wood—,"

"No one human can do one hundred push ups—,"

"Yeah, Fred and I can't do more than twenty… put together," the twins protested.

The attempts were all in vain as Wood simply shrugged them off and pointed to the changing rooms. The two twins looked at me with sympathy before walking off, but I really couldn't care less about their sympathy considering that I was attempting to finish my eighty first push up. Each time my arms extended and contracted I felt like collapsing on the ground and not getting up for a rather long period of time. I was fit, I mean, I have been one of the Gryffindor chasers since Alicia Spinnet quit the team, but one hundred push ups after an already exhausting practice was just a ridiculous request. Only natural that Wood was the one who had made such a request in the first place. _A little more, Riley. A little more, Rye. A little more. _I cheered myself on, but to no avail. Suddenly, my arms collapsed under me and I fell flat on my face. Slowly lifting myself off the mud I had found myself in, I looked up at Wood who was wearing a rather amused smirk on his face. I groaned and flicked him off before propping myself up and heading off for the changing rooms.

"That's not one hundred push ups, Harlow," he voiced sternly.

"Don't give a fuck, to be honest," I mumbled while walking away. I was almost at the door of the changing rooms when someone pulled me back. As I assumed, it was Wood, looking rather pissed off.

"That wasn't one hundred push ups, was it?" he questioned before shifting in front of me and blocking the entrance to the changing rooms.

"I'm not going to follow your ridiculous instructions, Wood," I spat. I attempted to shove him out of the way, but he didn't budge.

"If you don't go back and do the remaining seventeen push ups, you're off the team, Harlow," he explained, his expression somber. I snorted and shoved him out of the way once again, however this time he moved and let me pass through. _He wouldn't actually kick me off the team, I know that. I mean, they need me, they really do. _

"You know you need me, Wood. You need me on the team to win, you know that," I started. "The fact that you have to take all your bottled teen angst out on me will not jeopardize my position on this team. You can be a prick to me all you like, but you know that there's no way you're getting that cup without me."

"You're wrong, Harlow. Gryffindor is full of potential chasers. The fact that you got on the team doesn't mean you'll stay there. Now, do the bloody push ups or leave and don't bother showing up for practice tomorrow," he said, his Scottish accent sounding harsher and more prominent than usual. I scoffed before entering the changing room. _There was no way he'd kick me off the team. It's just his usual bullshit. _It really wasn't the first time he'd threatened to take me off the team, just that usually he didn't seem _this _serious about it. Most of the time he'd yell it in one of his usual fits, but this time he just stood there, his voice inflection not changing once.

Once in the changing rooms, I set my broom against the wall before grabbing some clean clothes and entering the shower rooms. Everyone else had already left and not a single sound resonated throughout the large room. I closed the door of the shower room behind me. Slowly, I stripped off my quidditch robes and turned the shower on. I just stood there attempting to relax as I let the warm water travel down my body. As I pulled the hair glued to my face back I heard that all too familiar voice behind me and the sound of the door knob turning.

"Harlow, are you still in he—," Wood started, but never got to finish his sentence as he found himself staring at a rather nude me. I quickly covered myself to the best of my ability considering that I had nothing to cover myself with other than my two hands. Wood didn't even attempt to hide the fact that he was gazing at my body.

"Obviously, I'm still here," I stated, trying to avert his attention from my lack of clothing and answering the question he had set previously.

He looked up at me, smirking, but instead of leaving the shower room he leaned against the door and crossed his arms in front of his chest, his eyes never leaving mine. "Harlow, I don't know why you're bothering to cover up, it's not like there's much to see, anyway," he explained.

"Get out!" I yelled, my patience dissolving.

"No, I think I'll stay. I'm rather enjoying myself here," he smirked some more.

"I thought you said there was nothing to see, Wood. Get _out_, you sodding git." He didn't budge. I only then realized that my towel was right next to where he was standing. If he noticed it was there, there was no way he'd give it back. Cautiously, I started walking towards him and watched his eyes get wider with every step I took. Eventually, I found myself only inches away from him. His confused sea blue eyes were trying to read my unfazed greens. I put on my sexiest smirk right before quickly taking my hands off of parts of my anatomy I'd rather not let him see. By the time he had figured out that I was completely naked in front of him my now free hands had found their way to my towel which was now wrapped around me tightly. I turned on my heel, walked over to the shower and turned it off, the smirk never leaving my face.

"You ought to think about losing a few pounds, Harlow. Oh, and don't bother coming to practice, I was serious about kicking you off," Wood said before closing the shower room door shut behind him. The smirk immediately left my face. Being a normal, self-conscious sixteen year old girl, weight was always an issue, no matter how much I weighed. While weight was an issue, quidditch was my _life_. _There is no way he could kick me off the team, is there?_ I sighed trying not to let Wood's words to get to me and then proceeded to get dressed.

I was rushing to make it to dinner in time, seeing as my post-practice shower encounter with Oliver had taken up a little more time than I had expected. I hurried down the many Hogwarts hallways before barging into the Great Hall. I ran to the Gryffindor bench and seated myself next to George, as I usually do.

"Bloody hell, we thought you had died on the field or something! Where were you?" George questioned. I stared down at the food on my plate while contemplating whether or not to tell the twins about my misfortunate encounter with Wood.

"We've been waiting for you for over an hour and a half," Fred continued.

"Yeah, why'd you take that long?"

"It's not like it takes you an hour and a half to do fifteen push ups."

"And while you do love taking rather long showers—,"

"An hour and a half in the changing rooms—,"

"Is just inexplicably long—,"

"Unless, of course, you had a bloke in there." The twins went on for quite some time, spitting out possible reasons for my tardiness, but my eyes stayed glued on the food which I had not touched yet.

"Wood saw me naked," I blurted out quietly. The pair immediately shut up and gawked at me. "He walked in on me in the shower…"

"Blimey, why don't I ever walk in on you in the shower?" Fred wondered while wearing his signature grin.

"We have to ask Wood for details later," George added in. This was one of the downsides of having male best friends. Especially ones like Fred and George. They never took anything seriously, and in my sixteen year old teen mind having the one person I truly loathe see me naked is pretty sodding important.

"Wait, how nude were you, Rye?" George piped up again.

"Very, George. Very," I rolled my eyes.

"Completely?" Fred interjected.

"Obviously. I was in the shower, after all." The two just looked at one another as if Christmas had come a little too early before looking for a familiar face at the table. I knew they were looking for Wood, and I also knew that they were going to ask him about it. While they were my best friends and they'd never let one of my secrets slip to anyone, this wasn't exactly a secret. Not to mention that they were pretty close with the sodding prick, too. Wood would probably tell every person he stumbled upon about the encounter, and Fred and George knew that. So, before he did so they figured they could exploit their rights as my best friends and could get the complete rundown of the event from someone else's point of view. Normally, I wouldn't really care, but tonight was different. I'm somewhat of a little child when it comes to my everyday needs and right now I was tired and hungry. A tired and hungry Riley Harlow results in major mood swings. I looked down at my plate of food which I still hadn't touched and was about to take a huge bite out of the chicken when I recalled Wood's words from earlier on in the evening. I dropped my fork, got up and headed back to the Gryffindor Tower. From the corner of my eye I could see George looking at me worriedly.

"Hey, you all right?" a voice from behind me asked. I was sitting on a sofa in the Common Room reading a book. I turned around and found Harry and Ron hovering over me. "Oh, hey Harry, hey Ron. Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just a bit tired, that's all. I should be asking you the same thing, what with Black on the loose and all; all of Hogwarts seems to be in a state of frenzy," I replied. Harry had always been one of my favourite third years. Ron I knew well because he was Fred and George's little brother. I often stayed at the Burrow since I had nowhere else to go; in fact, I had spent all summer there. Ginny and I secretly practiced her Quidditch skills behind the orchard while the boys were away. She was actually much better than Fred and George were during their first year. Over time, the Weasleys have become a sort of second family to me much like they have to Harry. By the time I had shaken out of my thoughts I found George towering over me. He sighed and then proceeded to find a comfortable position on the sofa.

"Sorry about earlier, we didn't mean to offend you, Rye. I mean, we know that in your mind Oliver seeing you nude is the end of the world," George said.

I chuckled slightly before answering. "Nah, it's fine, really. I just didn't feel too well and was knackered after practice."

"Uh, yeah, about practice…" George started. "Uh, I went up to Oliver with the noble intention of pestering him to give details about your earlier incident, and he mentioned that you quit the team for real this time. Is that true?" I stared at him. Wood was actually _serious _about kicking me off. I didn't even bother replying before I set off to find him.

"Wood, you bloody wanker! Where the hell are you?" I yelled as I frantically searched for him amidst the many faces in the Gryffindor tower. I made my way all up to the boys' dormitories and burst through his door not bothering to knock. My stomach churned in an all too familiar manner when I found him on his bed with yet another Gryffindor girl. However, I didn't let my mind wander off too far from the reason I had initially come here to discuss.

"How could you tell Fred and George that I had _quit_? I had done no such thing," I demanded.

"You didn't do the one hundred push ups, either," he stated coolly.

"Because it was a ridiculous request, Wood!"

"I told you I'd take you off the team if you didn't do it, had I not?"

"Well, yes. But I didn't take you seriously. It was one hundred push ups, Wood!"

"Of course, you never take anything I say seriously. Don't worry, Harlow, I have already scheduled new try-outs."

"You need me on the team to win, Wood. You know that."

"I happen to think that there are other capable chasers here in Gryffindor."

"_Capable_, maybe. You need a little more than _capable _to win. Oh, for fuck's sake, Wood, drop the act; you might not like me, but you love quidditch and it's your last chance to win the cup." My voice was loud and full of anger while his remained collected throughout the entire conversation. We were obviously in rather different states of mind. Neither of us, however, seemed to have noticed that the girl he was with had silently slipped out of his bed and left the room.

"You've been on the team for a few years now, Harlow, and we still haven't won the cup. Obviously you're not quite as good as you seem to think you are. In fact, recently I've noticed that your flying is a tad bit insecure." Now, this just made me fume. I had my faults all right, but quidditch was _not _one of them. My flying was _not _one of them. Biting back on every remark I had mentally prepared about his inability to be a good captain, as well as the mistakes he makes in the position of keeper, I stormed out of the room.

I ran down the stairs, past the majority of Gryffindors in the Common Room, and made my way up to my dormitory. I thought I heard one of the twins calling my name, but I really didn't pay much attention to the utter pandemonium around me as I ran for the stairs. The room was thankfully empty, so I was free to collapse on my bed and start sobbing like a two year old that was denied ice cream. In only minutes my pillow was soaked with tears and Angelina exploded through the door, obviously sent by Fred to find out what was wrong with me.

"What'd that prick do now?" She asked, knowing that Wood was responsible for whatever sudden mood change I had.

"He took me off the team," I choked out between sobs. Angelina's face immediately went from mildly annoyed to a shade of blood red. She knew how much of a deal quidditch was to me.

"HE DID WHAT!" she exclaimed. I just nodded to confirm that she heard right, not really feeling like repeating the sentence. She left the room knowing that I hate to be comforted while I'm crying. It was a habit I formed when I was little, being around boys all the time while playing quidditch and all, crying immediately made you weak. And being the only girl in the group, I couldn't exactly allow myself the luxury of being weak.

By the time all the other girls started pouring into the dormitory I had already calmed down quite a bit, though my puffy eyes were clearly evident. By midnight everyone was more or less in bed and sleeping except me; I kept tossing and turning in my bed not being able to really fall asleep. I decided that I wouldn't get any sleep if I kept this up, so I silently got out of bed, and headed for the boys' dormitories. I thought how I had to thank Hogwarts one day for being somewhat sexist and trusting girls more than boys, therefore not putting a charm on the staircase leading to the boys' dormitories.

I walked over to George's bed and shook him gently.

"George, George, scoot over," I whispered into his ear. Reluctantly, he slightly opened one eye to make sure that it was me standing in front of him before sighing and making space for me in the bed. It wasn't unusual for me to sleep with the twins in their bed. I did it quite often when I was scared or something was bothering me. Nobody seemed to think much of it. The rest of the boys in the dormitory were rather taken aback by the random girl in the bed of one of the two Weasley twins the first few times, but then seemed to have figured out that it was just one of those things we'd do. The twins were only a few months younger than me, but were a whole year below me in school much to my dismay.

"Everything all right?" George mumbled. I merely gave him a little nod before closing my eyes and drifting off to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2: Detention and Other Mishaps

A/N: I forgot to mention, this is a fic I have going on on HPFF, but I decided to upload it here, too… Enjoy and r&r (:

Detention and other mishaps

"Morning," George said through a yawn as he stretched his arms far over his head.

"Mhmm," I mumbled back, not bothering too much with making my speech sound somewhat coherent. My eyes were barely open and I could only make out George's blurry figure shifting around in the bed.

"You all right? What happened last night?" he questioned.

"Wood kicked me off the team," I replied, my voice still groggy.

"He did _what?_" a voice exclaimed from behind me.

"Does he _want _us to lose?" another one piped up.

"What a bloody idiot!" George joined in.

"Don't worry about it, Rye, he'll be begging for you back soon!"

"Yeah, and I bet nobody will come to the try-outs because everyone knows it's your position!"

"Yeah!"

It was amidst that pandemonium that no other than Oliver Wood stormed into the dormitory. The voices of the other boys immediately hushed down and were replaced by evil glares aimed towards the Gryffindor Quidditch captain. Wood seemed to have dismissed all the expressions the boys were wearing because I found him staring right at me, not really looking as though he cared about the other Gryffindor's opinions about my Quidditch position. His expression seemed to harden at the sight of me in George's bed.

"Charming, Harlow. Real classy," he sneered, his grim look now replaced by his usual smirk. I sighed, exasperated, but not in the mood to counteract his statement.

"What do you want?" George interjected, his voice showing signs of his annoyance with Wood at the moment.

"Just wanted to check whether you know that we have practice in a little less than an hour," Wood began. "But you're obviously busy."

I have no idea what got into me, but all it took was a split second. Something inside of me snapped and instead of lunging at Wood and kicking his arse I turned my head towards George and pressed my lips on his. George moved back, startled, but I quickly closed the gap between us.

It felt wrong. Really _really _wrong. It felt like I was indulging in a rather passionate snog fest with a family member, and I'm sure it felt no different for him. Eventually, I moved away and looked around the room. All the guys were staring with their jaws on the floor, though they knew that I was doing it merely to get a rise out of Wood. Obviously, it had worked because when I looked towards the door by which he was previously standing, there was nobody there. George, on the other hand, hadn't moved since I eagerly pulled away and I felt as though it was my job to lighten the mood up with a joke, but nothing came to mind.

"Well, good thing he's gone," I laughed halfheartedly. George gave a sluggish, small nod. I gulped before getting out of bed and heading down the stairs, only to crash into Harry on the way down.

"Morning, Rye. What are you doing in the guy's dormitories?" Harry wondered.

"Got kicked off the team last night by Wood. Slept in George's bed. Snogged George this morning," I replied in short, incomplete sentences, still dazed by my impulsive actions.

"He kicked you off the team? HOW could he kick you off the te– hold up, did you just say you _snogged George_?" Harry exclaimed, his green eyes wide as saucers. I gave an affirmative nod and increased my pace down the staircase.

Harry looked as though he was just about to ask me how it could ever come to that when I beat him to it. "Wood was there and was annoying me and thought George and I did god knows what in George's bed, and subtly made a reference to me being a slut, and I didn't think, and oh god; I snogged George."

"Uh… apparently so," Harry replied, though the grin creeping up on his face was hard to miss. "Though, I must admit, this is bloody brilliant."

"What is?" a voice from behind us interrupted. I twisted my head as far back as possible and could catch hints of ginger hair lurking behind me.

"Uh… Rye was just showing me this Quidditch… thing," Harry explained as Ron caught up with us. Thank Merlin that he wasn't all too perceptive to see right through Harry's lie. Thinking this was as good of a time as it gets to leave; I excused myself and made a dash for the girl's dormitories.

I hopped into the shower and hastily dressed myself.

I was still trying to fix my robe as I rushed to the Great Hall for breakfast only to be greeted by George. _Quick Riley, think. Think. What do you tell him?_

"Hey, Rye," George said uneasily. "Uh… about this morning…"

"I'm sorry, I was just trying to get a rise out of Wood," I clarified a little too fast. _Oh god, what if he thinks I fancy him?_

"Yeah, I figured as much. What I don't understand is _why_ you did that? Only one reason comes to mind, but I find it sort of… absurd," he started.

_Merlin's beard! He thinks I fancy him. Oh no, no, no. This can't be good. There's no way he thinks that, I mean, he's like my brother… who makes constant references to me being quite the catch, but that's just a guy thing. And we're not technically related, but he'd never fancy me. Not that I want him to. Oh bloody hell, he thinks I fancy him._

"The only reason that comes to mind is that you fancy Wood, which is why you were trying to make him jealous."

_See? I told you! What do I tell him now? How do I explain that it was merely a way to get a rise out of Wo– Wait, WHAT! He thinks I fancy _Wood_?_

I started laughing uncontrollably as George eyed me cautiously.

"You all right, Rye?" George asked nervously. By now I was clutching my sides and bending over from the laughter escaping my lips.

"Yeah, I'm – I'm fine," I choked out in between manic laughs. Somehow managing to recuperate from my previous laughing fit I looked up at George, still panting from the lack of oxygen. "I thought you thought I fancied _you_. But _Wood_? Seriously, of all the people in the world, you think I fancy _Oliver Wood_? Have you not been present in the past two years of my life and witnessed the hatred I have for him?"

"You thought I fancied you! Riley Nicole Harlow, seriously. That's gross. Not that you're gross, I mean. You're quite the good kisser, too, but I just don't like you that way… and oh goodness, I'm should just shut up. Onto a different topic; yeah, I have witnessed you hatred for him… but I've also witnessed what you felt for him more than two years ago…"

The grin that was still engraved on my face until that point had completely disappeared after George's proclamation. I did _not_ fancy Oliver Wood… anymore.

Okay, so I might have left out the part where we used to be friends… best friends. He sort of started hating me halfway through my fourth yeah for reasons which still remain unknown to me. One day we were sharing secrets and inside jokes and 24 hours later he was giving me cold stares and calling me names. It was as if the Oliver Wood I had known was replaced by some bastard. I eventually got used to it, though; the hatred and all.

… I might have also left out the part where I used to have the biggest crush on him. I had known him all my life, way before I had known the Weasley twins, and pretty much since then I also remember harbouring feelings for him. Of course, I never mustered up the courage to tell him, but there were certain moments, certain intimidating moments where he would stare at me and I would feel as though he could look right through my act. I tried to compensate for the feeling by finding myself a boyfriend. He was a nice guy, my boyfriend, really, but he wasn't Oliver. Ultimately, the letters on the dotted line played a key factor in our break up. Thankfully, Oliver doesn't know that, nor will he… _ever_.

"Oi, you two! Are you just going to stand there at the entrance or are you gonna come in and eat something?" Fred yelled from the bench occupied by most Gryffindor students, making me snap out of my thoughts. I glanced over at George before giving him a little nod and whispering, "You're wrong. I don't fancy Wood." We then proceeded to walk towards the bench and found ourselves seats across from Fred and Angelina.

"Well, that was quite the show you two put up in the dormitory," Fred announced as I poured the mashed potatoes on my plate. Plastered on his face was his usual grin. "What was that all about, anyway?"

"Rye fancying Wood," George stated gravely, an identical grin to Fred's creeping up on his face. My fork screeched against my plate at George's words.

"I do _not _fancy Wood!" I huffed as I slapped George over the arm.

"'Course you don't," both the Twins affirmed simultaneously. I let out a groan realizing that the best way to get out of this was to switch subjects.

"So, what do you guys have after breakfast?"

"Quidditch practice," they replied in unison.

"Oh…" I whispered, the disappointment evident in my voice. Naturally, upon seeing my expression, the twins took it upon themselves to cheer me up.

"Don't worry, Rye, he'll have you on the team in no time."

"Yeah, he'll see how impossible it is to play without you."

"And how great of a chaser you are."

"And that he won't win the cup without you on the team."

I didn't pay much attention to them. I just kept thinking about myself on the quidditch pitch. _Perhaps next year I can get back on?_ I knew that Wood wouldn't let me back on the team; he was too proud to do so. Men and their bloody ego.

"Whatever. I have to go to class before Snape goes all 'Avada Kedavra' on me ," I whispered before leaving the bench and heading out the door.

I sprinted towards the dungeon and burst into the room panting heavily. Snape, however, did not seem fazed by my obvious desire to be in his classroom on time. I swear the class only started two seconds ago. _Two _bloody seconds ago, and he's already sending me death glares.

"That will be 10 points from Gryffindor… and detention for you, Miss Harlow," Snape muttered, a strand of greasy hair falling over his face as he looked down towards the textbook in front of him.

"But Professor!"

"There will be _no _buts, Miss Harlow. Turn to page 134, class. We will be learnin."

The rest of Snape's lecture became distorted as I shut out his voice and grunted, not particularly looking forward to my detention that evening.

And _finally_! The class was over and I leaped for the door. I usually listened in class, though. Well, as much as possible at least because it was the easiest way for me to remember everything as opposed to cramming for the exams the night before we actually have them. Today, however, I just wasn't in the mood. I should've been on a damn Quidditch pitch instead of getting detention.

_Oh come on, Riley. Move your legs a bit faster. You don't want to be late to detention, do you? He'll just give you another one and then another and then another…_

I tried to get myself to move along faster knowing that I'd be late yet again at this pace, but my feet didn't seem to keen on the idea of me moving faster than I already was.

After what seemed like eternity, I hastily opened the door only to find Snape there, expectantly waiting. And just as if it were my luck, Snape wasn't the only one in the room. Sitting in a chair merely a few feet away from me was Oliver Wood.

"You can't be serious, Professor," I practically begged. "I mean, detention is one thing, but you can't make me have detention with Oliver Wood, I haven't done something _that _bad." The way the words left my mouth seemed malicious even to me, but Snape found the situation merely humorous.

"Well, I initially thought you two could do all that Potions work that you seemed to have set aside due to Quidditch, but upon seeing how greatly you get along I have deemed it enough a punishment to make you bare each other's presence for a few hours," Snape declared. "I shall be back in a while… oh, and try not to kill each other, will you? I wouldn't want to explain that to Dumbledore." And with that, Professor Snape exited the room, the clicking sound of the lock echoing in my head.

"You can't do that!" I yelled. I continued to yell at the door despite knowing that nobody would hear me.

"Will you shut up already? Obviously nobody is going to come, or hear you." Wood snapped. I turned my gaze from the solid door to Wood's expression.

"There's a special place in hell for both you and Snape," I announced as I sat on a chair.

"I love you, too, Harlow."

"Uh-huh."

"Quidditch practice went well, in case you wanted to know. Almost didn't even notice that we were a player down."

This just made my blood boil. Quidditch was a touchy subject, and he knew that.

"Fuck you, Wood."

He smirked. That arrogant bastard smirked.

"I'm out of your league, Harlow. Though, you seem to have thing for hopping into bed with just about everyone."

"What are you talking about, Wood? As far as I recall, you're the one who's got another girl every two minutes."

"You know bloody well what I'm talking about, Harlow."

I was downright furious at this point and tried to contain myself from pulling out my wand and casting one of the three Unforgivable Curses at him. He was just pulling random arguments out of his arse to make up for the fact that he doesn't have a reason to keep me off the team.

"No, I do not know what you're talking about, Wood. Please, clarify."

"You've slept around quite a bit, rather promiscuous, are we?"

"Oh, look who's decided to use big words," I rolled my eyes. "Name _one _guy that I've slept with, Wood. Just _one_."

This shouldn't be getting this much to me. I mean, his opinion of me shouldn't really matter all that much, it's just Wood.

"Whatever, Wood. Your personal opinion should not reflect my right to be on the team, and you damn well know that. You have absolutely no reason to kick me off the team."

Apparently, he chose to completely ignore the subject of Quidditch and stayed focused on my alleged promiscuity.

"I can name more than one guy, Harlow. I can compose quite a long list, actually. Of course, starting wit–,"

Professor Snape burst through the door out of breath, bringing the dispute to an abrupt halt. "Follow me, you two," he demanded, his voice firm and monotonous as always.

"What is it?" I inquired curiously.

"I must get you to the Great Hall immediately. Sirius Black is on Hogwarts grounds," he explained in the politest manner he appeared to find possible.

My mood changed from enraged to terrified in seconds. I looked over at Wood and could see traces of fear in his eyes, too.

"Well, come on already," Snape hurried us out.

Wood immediately acted upon Snape's demands and started running up the dungeon stairs, but I just stood frozen. Upon determining that I am not right behind him he turned around only to find me in the same exact position I was in when he had initially made a run for it. Instinctively, he sprinted back towards me, grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the door.

It looked as though we had been walking to the Great Hall for hours, when in fact it was merely a few minutes. Wood's grip never loosened as my hand stayed tightly intertwined with his.

We stood at the center of the entrance to the Great Hall, and it was only then that we realized we were still holding hands. We both let go with one rapid movement, but even in the darkness I could make out Fred and George's ginger hair as well as their trademark grins. Hesitantly, I walked over to them and the vacant sleeping bag between them. I wiggled my way into the sleeping bag with the twins grinning at me.

"Shut up, you two," I tried to hush them before they even started commenting, but to no avail.

"I do _not _fancy Wood," they mimicked my earlier declaration.

I groaned before realizing it's impossible to reason with them. "There's a murderer on the loose. Seriously, can't you take anything seriously?"

"But what's the fun in taking things seriously?" they questioned.

I didn't even bother replying, I just shook my head in disapproval before closing my eyes and drifting off to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3: Dating

Dating

I shifted around in the sleeping bag, my eyes still shut tight. The Great Hall was silent except the unmistakable whispers of Fred, George, and Oliver Wood.

"When's the next quidditch practice?" one of the twins questioned.

"Eight-thirty. Be on time for a change," Wood pleaded.

"You make it seem as if we're always late."

"You sort of are always late."

"Not true."

"Whatever. Just be on time, okay? We've got a pretty important game coming up."

"Yes, Wood, we know. We know. You've only mentioned it about a thousand times since this morning."

"Well, we've got to try extra hard this time to win."

"Yeah, well, good luck attempting to win without Rye on the team."

"We don't need Rye on the team."

"Not to disappoint you or anything, but in case you're not familiar with Quidditch rules, teams do tend to have three chasers."

"Don't mock my knowledge of Quidditch, Fred," Oliver hissed.

"Actually, I'm George," one of the Weasley's replied.

"Whatever, George."

"Nah, just joking; I actually am Fred. And you might not like the girl, Wood, but she's a bloody brilliant chaser."

"We. Do. Not. Need. Riley. Harlow. To. Win."

"O-kay… touchy subject, moving on," one of the twins interrupted.

"Yeah, we never got about to that incident you guys had in the changing room the night you kicked her off," the other redhead noted, the smirk evident by his tone of voice.

Oh, for fuck's sake. They couldn't honestly be bringing this up again… wait, scratch that. They're hormone crazed males, of course they could.

"What about the incident?" Wood inquired, not sounding particularly interested.

"You saw Riley naked, my dear friend. You know exactly 'what' about the incident you're to report about."

"Oh, please, as if you haven't seen her naked before. You are the one shagging her, aren't you?" Wood snapped.

"What? Fred, you're sleeping with Rye?" George gasped.

"What? No, I meant you, George. _You're_ the one shagging her," Wood corrected. It wasn't hard to mix up the twins, sometimes even I couldn't tell them apart and I was the one who spent more time with them than anyone else.

"… I'm not shagging Riley, Wood. She's like my sister. What in the world would give you such a ridiculous idea?"

"You mean _other _than the fact that she was in your bed yesterday morning?"

"She was bloody pissed off 'cause you kicked her off the damn team! She always does that when she's mad or feeling down!"

Wood immediately shut up. I wish more than anything that I could have witnessed the dumbfounded look on his face when he realized I hadn't slept with George, after all. However, a satisfied smile would suffice.

I gave it a few more minutes of senseless rambling between the twins and Wood before shuffling around in my bed and faking just waking up. I pretend yawned and stretched out.

"Good morning, Darlings… and Wood," I said, my voice still rather raspy. They each mumbled a grouchy 'morning' under their breaths, still somewhat tense from the quarrel that took place a few minutes ago. It wasn't long before everyone else started rising from their slumber, rubbing their eyes to get a more focused look of their surroundings. Then, Dumbledore barged into the room and announced that we may in fact proceed back to our dormitories. Every Hogwarts student, though the fear still evident in their eyes, jumped out of their sleeping bags and ran straight to their dormitories.

I was on my bed, combing my hair and glancing around at the other girls in the dormitory who were in the middle of a rather heated gossiping session about anyone and everyone. I would casually listen in on their intellectual conversations every so often.

"Did you see what she looks like after she wakes up? What guy would want to wake up to that?"

"I know, she's disgusting."

"Did you guys see that 7th year Ravenclaw, though? Whatsername, the one everyone's all talking about?"

"Gwyneth Stone? Everyone's always talking about her blonde curls, but you know, I've heard that she's actually a brunette!"

The room was treated by simultaneous gasps of surprise. It was always amusing to watch the girls on one of their rants.

"Isn't she dating that obnoxious Slytherin guy?"

"What Slytherin guy? They're _all _obnoxious. You haven't really narrowed the list down for us."

"I dunno his name. Surely you've heard the rumors, though."

"I've heard that's she's been with almost every guy in every house."

"Me too. And her eldest sister was expelled a few years ago for getting knocked up while she was in her fifth year."

More audible gasps followed, along with shouts of disbelief.

"No way!"

"What a whore!"

Angelina and I were pretty much the only two girls not making comments about the older Stone sister's accidental pregnancy, though there was no disputing that we found it just as amusing as the rest of the girls did.

Soon, the girls scattered out of the room as they went off to fulfill their duties for the day and only Angelina and I were left.

"Riley?" Angelina began, her tone displaying hints of apprehensiveness. "There's something I've been meaning to ask you."

"Mhm?" I replied, not really noticing the worried look she was wearing.

"Erm, do you fancy… Wood?"

"Oh, heaven's no!" I laughed, obviously finding it a tad bit more amusing than she did because her expression didn't soften at all. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh, uhm, no reason, really," she squeaked.

I just sent her an oh-really-is-that-so sort of look after which she realized she must confess.

"I sort of fancy him," she gulped. My eyes went wide, my jaw dropped to the floor, and something inside of me snapped. I must have looked pretty stupid sitting there, utterly gob smacked, for what I imagine must have been minutes.

"What? Of all the people in the world you fancy _Wood_? But didn't you fancy Fred? He fancies you! Why don't you fancy him?" I shouted hastily rather than asked.

"Well, yeah, I fancied Fred, but it's not as if anything is gonna happen between us. Besides, Oliver isn't quite as vile as you seem to think he is, I swear!"

"Oh and something _will _happen with Wood?"

She blushed a bit. "We might have kissed…"

"What? When? It's only been a few hours since we've been allowed into the dorm rooms!"

"Yesterday. After practice."

"I can't believe you'd do this to me!"

"Do what? We just kissed!"

"Yeah, _just_. My best friend snogged the one guy I truly despise!"

"Calm down, Riley. And anyway, I have the right to snog whoever I want!"

"He kicked me off the quidditch team, he insults me on a daily basis, makes my life hell, hates me for no reason other than the fact that he's an obnoxious arse, and now he's dating my best friend! That's bloody perfect, Angelina, don't you think?"

And with that, I stormed out of the room, not bothering to hear her reply. I wasn't sure whether the reason I was so furious with her was because she fancied Wood, the guy I loathe, or because she fancied Oliver, the guy who I had the most enormous crush on before he turned into Wood; whichever it was, neither I nor my churning stomach were too happy about it.

"Hey there, Rye," a voice from behind hollered and when I turned around to look who it was I found Ron standing there. I was sitting in the Common Room reading a book, trying to take my mind off everything.

"Try-outs are in three days. I think you should go," Ron explained.

I gave out a halfhearted laugh.

"No matter how good I do you know Wood would never let me on the team, Ron," I replied.

"Then all of Gryffindor will revolt! Have you heard, by the way? Oliver and Angelina are an item."

"Oh?" I replied attempting to seem rather unfazed by what he had said.

"Yeah, Fred's so cross with Wood at the moment," he said.

My eyes instantly grew wide open; I had completely forgotten that Fred likes Angelina and that he and Oliver are good friends. Oh goodness, I'm such a horrible friend.

"Ron, where's Fred now?" I said.

"Don't know. Probably out by the lake," he shrugged.

"Nice talking to you, Ron," I said, already out of my seat and halfway through the Common Room.

I looked out towards the lake and surely, somewhere underneath the sloping Oak tree there was Fred. I advanced towards him bit by bit while rethinking my approach.

"Kind of chilly outside to be sitting on the ground, don't you think?"

No reply. Casual approach failed.

"So, I was deeply considering becoming a lesbian."

Nothing. Ignorant approach failed.

"If you need anyone to talk to, I'm always here, you know that?"

Not a single word or gesture. Let's-talk-about-our-feelings approach failed.

"Oh for fuck's sake, Fred, stop giving me such a hard time here and talk to me. I assure you that I'm just as angry at the moment as you are. And it's not like Fred Weasley to sit around here and mope so would you please enlighten me and tell me what your problem is?"

He grinned a bit at this before turning his head my way. "Neither is it like Riley Harlow to stand here and ask me about my feelings. I'm a guy; we don't do that, Riley. I thought you have learned as much by now from being around George and me so often."

"Fair enough, but you still haven't answered my question."

"Just ticked off at Wood. I mean, he _knows_ I have a thing for Angelina. Well, _had _a thing."

I raised a brow, "So you're sitting here moping about it?"

"Well, why are _you _so angry at whichever one of them you are angry with?"

"Well, my best girl friend is with the one guy I truly hate. Not too happy about that, I must admit. Though, I probably did overreact a bit," I shrugged.

"You threw a huge fit at Angelina, didn't you?"

"Yeah… I might have come off as a tad bit more melodramatic then I had intended to…"

"No problem; I blew up at Oliver," Fred grinned. "You plan on apologizing?"

"Nope," I replied bluntly. "Where's your lesser evil counterpart, by the way?"

"Stubborn as always, and I honestly have no idea where George is."

"In that case, I suggest we go find him."

We found George trying to chat up a third year Ravenclaw girl.

"Honestly, George, she's Ron's age," I argued.

"But she's mature for her age!" he defended.

"Fred, I could use a little help here."

"Oh, right. George, she's too young and – oh! Is that her? Have to admit, she's rather fit – Ouch! What was that for, woman?" Fred raged on while rubbing the part of his arm which I hit.

"For being a guy."

"Sorry to disappoint you, but I didn't have much say over that choice."

At this point, George decided to interject, "Anyway, Rye, did you hear about the try outs?"

"What about them?"

"I think you should try out. Everyone knows you're the best chaser ever ever ever and that we love you oh so dearly," he cooed while batting his eyelashes.

"There's no way in hell that I'm trying out."

"Flip a coin?"

I looked at the twins, each of them eagerly pleading me with puppy eyes.

"Fine. I call heads."

He flipped the coin.

_Tails._

_ Fuck. There goes what little was left of my pride… _

Three days seem to go by so fast when you're dreading what comes after them. I glanced around at the pitch. A few students were practicing for the upcoming tryouts, each eyeing their competition cautiously. I observed the hot air leaving my mouth as I exhaled and turning into a foggy mist as it left my mouth. Wood was observing the practicing Gryffindors before taking sight of me and smirking maliciously. He made his way over to me with a confident strut before stopping a few feet away.

"Came to try out for the team, I see, Harlow. Don't get your hopes up, the competition is pretty skilled."

I twisted my neck as far back as it could go. One of my adversaries had just fallen to the ground after attempting to take off. Obviously, Wood was trying to get a rise out of me, and I must admit it was working.

"Sod off, Wood. I only came because I flipped a coin with Fred and George and lost," I hissed. He squinted while searching for Fred and George in the air, and when he had finally found him, they just grinned at him.

"You're stubborn, Harlow," he started, his eyes still fixated on Fred and George who were now having a sword fight with their bats. "If you didn't want to come, you wouldn't – regardless of whether or not you lost while flipping coins."

I was about to start yelling, but he had already taken flight and was pretty high up already.

"Gather around, Gryffindors," Wood yelled. "I must say that I'm quite pleased to see that so many of you have come to try out, I see lots of new potential chasers already. Anyway, since it's so cold outside, I suggest we get started."

The "potential chasers" nodded hastily before scattering out into different directions. _This was going to be a long few hours._


	4. Chapter 4: Quidditch

Quidditch

I kicked myself off the ground hastily and flew over to where the rest of the potential chasers were. I tightly gripped the handle of my Nimbus 2001; a birthday present from my parents.

"Alright, we're going to go by alphabetical order of last names. Each of you will be tested on your skills. I'll be playing my usual keeper position, and Fred and George are here as beaters. Now, let us begin…" Wood's annoying Scottish accent resonated over the pitch as he called out a visibly nervous, scrawny looking boy.

I sighed and took a seat on a bench of the Gryffindor tower by Harry knowing it will be a while before I get called on, even though my last name started with H. He gave me a warm smile as I greeted him.

"I know I shouldn't say much, but this guy is pretty appalling," Harry mused. I looked at the frightened boy in the air as the quaffle clumsily flung out of his hand.

I snorted before continuing, "I just hope Wood's pride won't get the best of him. I mean, he can't seriously choose this guy over me, can he?" Harry merely glanced over in my direction with a worried expression as if he were afraid to tell me that Wood really _could _choose a clueless first year that can't catch a quaffle over me. "I mean, he loves quidditch too much. This is his last chance to win the cup; he won't throw it all away just to piss me off, will he?" Harry sent me another look. At this point it had become clear that I was merely trying to convince myself rather than him.

I shot another look at the struggling young boy on the field and sighed heavily.

I looked around the quidditch field. Harry and I had been sitting there for an hour watching various students try out for the position of Gryffindor chaser. Each person trying out seemed worse than the previous. At the moment I thought that my greatest competition was the first boy who had dropped the quaffle. However, listening to the various names leaving Wood's mouth, I knew I was up next since he had just gotten about to the letter H.

"That will be enough, take a seat. Next one up, Jennifer Keys," Wood bellowed. Wait, what? Did he just skip me?

"Wood, I'm supposed to be nex—," I started, but was interrupted shortly thereafter.

"Yes, yes, Harlow. No need to whine like a two year old. You'll get your turn… only you'll be going last."

"I'll be doing _what_? That's bullshit! You can't do that!"

"Yes, I can. You insulted the team captain."

"You're a bloody arse!"

"I'm trying to hold tryouts here, Harlow. Would you mind?"

I huffed before angrily before turning on my heel and proceeding to the benches to grab my broom. I had had enough. I couldn't care less about quidditch anymore if _he _was going to be my captain. Just as I was about to storm out, Fred pulled me back.

"Please don't go, Rye, _please_," he begged. "I know it's hell now, but look at the rest of the people! Your place on the team is pretty much already assured, and I need someone here in case Wood and Angelina start snogging."

"I can't take it anymore, Fred. I mean, you saw that! I can't be around him any longer."

"Please, Rye," Fred continued. "Please, do it for me." He knew that when he pleaded like that I couldn't say no. I huffed and turned back around.

"You owe me, Fred. You owe me so bloody much," I groaned. Fred grinned before getting back on his broom and returning to the try outs.

Another two hours had passed before my turn came up. I was fuming by the time Wood cheekily called on me, and it took all my self control not to lunge myself at him and beat him to a bloody pulp.

I kicked off the ground and flew up. It was windy and cold outside and my fingers had gone numb from waiting out in the freezing weather for so long. I looked around at my old team. Everyone was grinning at me; everyone except Oliver Wood. Well, him and Angelina, but I didn't have the nerve to look up at her since I was still pretty angry with her.

"Harlow, it seems you've gone a bit rusty. Do I need to explain what we're about to do?" Wood noted.

"I'll figure it out, sweetie. Wouldn't want to worry that pretty, little head of yours," I sardonically replied and then we started the try out.

Unlike most of the others, I didn't feel nervous while trying out. No, I felt like I was right where I was supposed to be; I belonged here on the quidditch pitch. Angelina was, for the purposes of the try out, the opponent. I carefully managed to steal the quaffle from her and made my way towards the hoops – the hoops which Wood was guarding.

I looked at Woods sly grin and snapped. I really don't know why I did what I did, but I found myself throwing the quaffle at him with all my strength, not at the hoop. I didn't expect it to hit him, but it did. It hit him right in the chest and knocked the wind right out of him. He lost control over his broom and before I could even comprehend what was happening, Oliver Wood was falling to the ground.

I was the first one down there, Angelina following close behind me. Wood lay there, motionless. As much as I hated the guy and at moments wished he was dead, I didn't _actually _expect myself to kill him.

"Wood, Wood, you fucking arse. Wood, I know you're alright, I know you're doing this just to get a rise out of me, so you can make fun of me later. You bloody git, wake up. Wake up!" I yelled in panic, but he didn't budge.

"I'm going to call someone. We should get him to the hospital wing immediately; he's knocked out cold," I heard someone say, but all the noises in the background seemed distorted. I just kept staring at the Gryffindor quidditch captain, the one I had truly loathed and couldn't go a day without in some way insulting. And for a split second while staring at the unconscious figure in front of me, I saw my best friend and first love.

"Oliver, _please_," I whispered barely audibly.

I put my hand on his chest almost instinctively, but what happened after that was something I couldn't explain. I started feeling really worn out, as if all the energy was being sucked out of me. And then, suddenly, it stopped. I quickly removed my hand from his chest only to see his eyes fluttering open.

It took him a minute to regain full consciousness, but my eyes didn't leave him. Somehow, I had expected to see my best friend there again. That, and I was hoping to have some answers about what had just happened. I had just put my hand on his chest, and he was completely cured.

"Harlow, I know I'm damn sexy, but you might wanna consider stop looking at me," he said through a smirk. "Also, I think you just failed your try outs."

No, no, seems like he was still the same asshole I had grown to hate. My little moment of crazed frenzy had passed and now I was just left wondering what had happened and how he was miraculously cured.

"Sod off, Wood," I exclaimed before getting up and walking towards the exit of the pitch.

"Whoa! Slow down there, tiger," George followed. "What was that all about?" I knew he was talking about Wood being inexplicably healed, but I was just as clueless as him.

"Honestly, I have no idea, George," I began. "I really have no idea, but don't you dare tell Wood I had anything to do with it." And with that, I picked up my pace and was headed for McGonagall's office.


	5. Chapter 5: Revelations

Revelations 

"Professor McGonagall?" I called as I knocked on the giant doors of her chambers. I was beyond confused about what had happened on the pitch a few minutes ago.

"Who is it? Come in, come in," the frail looking woman replied, her head still looking down as she fervently jotted something down on the paper in front of her.

"I need to speak to you, Professor, do you have a minute?" I stood there nervously with my hands by my sides.

"Ms. Harlow, what a nice surprise," Professor McGonagall remarked as she looked up at me sending me one of her affectionate, yet very rare smiles. I had always liked McGonagall, despite her grim moments, and I could tell she was rather fond of me too because she would always give George, Fred and me mild punishments for our pranks. "Sit, child," she continued, motioning to the chair in front of her desk. "What is it that's bothering you?"

I carefully marched over to the chair before reluctantly sitting down, attempting to assemble my thoughts. "Well, I was at quidditch try outs a few moments ago…"

"Quidditch tryouts? Why would their possibly be tryouts? We have a brilliant team already!" McGonagall exclaimed, clearly alarmed.

"Oh, you mean dear Wood hasn't told you? He kicked me off the team," I began, but my thoughts were elsewhere. I would have time later to sulk about quidditch later; right now I was purely a puzzled teenage girl.

"He did no such thing! Where is his mind? But without you we'll lose!" She then sighed whilst shaking her head, "Boys will be boys…"

"Professor McGonagall, that is not why I came here," I stammered.

"Oh? It is not?" she questioned.

"No, you see, while I was at the tryouts, I got fairly cross with Wood –," I started, but was cut off.

"How unlikely for you and Wood," she proclaimed. _Was Professor McGonagall being sarcastic? _I shook it off before continuing.

"As I was saying, I was at the tryouts and I _accidentally _hit him fairly hard with the quaffle," Professor McGonagall immediately raised her eyebrows as I made a point of it being an accident. "Okay, so maybe not entirely accidentally, but I never really meant to hurt him! Anyway, he lost control of his broom and fell…"

"He did what? Is he okay? Did you take him to the hospital wing?" she screeched in bewilderment.

"Oh, yes, yes, he's fine – much to my dismay… but you see, this is why I came here. I ran over to him, and he lay there motionless. I merely touched him and then," I paused as I tried to collect my thoughts. "And then I suddenly felt really tired, sort of like all the energy was being drained out of my body? But what's even stranger is that after that Wood woke up, and he was cured completely. My wand wasn't anywhere near, and I hadn't cast a single spell, but he was cured."

McGonagall gawked at me for quite some time and it made me rather uncomfortable. "Harlow, are you absolutely positive nobody else pulled out their wands or cast a spell?" I nodded my head in affirmation. McGonagall sighed before opening her mouth to speak. "There's only one possible explanation for that, but it's highly… unlikely."

"Please, Professor McGonagall, I just want to know what happened out there."

She looked at me, her eyes still wide with shock before she began explaining. "There's an old – if I dare say – legend about a gifted group of people called the healers. Mind you, these aren't your average healers which work at St. Mungo's. They supposedly originated somewhere in Ireland and are an ancient group of people who can heal someone without a spell or wand. According to ancient accounts, there were seven healers that can be accounted for, but none of them ever confirmed their powers."

"It is insinuated that the later alleged healers had all stemmed from the ancient families of the first and original healers and that the gift was hereditary, however, when they did further research it was revealed that none of the predecessors of the supposed healers had the gift. Later, a grand wizard came to the conclusion that it is hereditary, but it's a rather recessive gene and highly unlikely."

I gaped at her, not too sure of whether or not the information she was giving me was sinking in or not. Me. _A healer. _But I was average, I was a really average girl. I loved quidditch. I would get nervous while talking to a boy. I had good grades, but nothing extraordinary. I wasn't part veela, or part anything really; I was just your average Riley Nicole Harlow.

"However, there is a catch to the gift. No power is ever without a drawback or ultimatum. When you heal someone, energy is literally being sucked out of you, which is why you feel so tired. Of course, with a little rest you'll be as good as new, but there is saying that there have been two attempts at healing someone with a little… more than a simple scratch."

"Such as?" I questioned, truly intrigued.

"Healers are said to be able to resurrect people from the dead, but only someone who has recently died and whose soul and aura had not yet completely died." I gasped before letting her continue. "The process leeches a lot of energy out of a person and it is said that the ancient healers tried to resurrect an ancient prince and princess. Two healers were chosen for the task; one to heal the prince, and the other to heal the princess. Both the prince and princess lived, but not both the healers. One of them died from exhaustion while resurrecting the prince and the other survived."

"The healer that had survived needed weeks of recovery, some say even months. Eventually, somehow, she struggled to get back up on her feet. Shortly after she had fully recovered, a little boy fell on some rocks and slit his knee. It wasn't a serious injury, so she thought she would have the energy to patch him up. She gently touched his leg, but nothing happened. She had lost her power completely."

For a while I just gazed at McGonagall, though I wasn't really looking at her. I was actually trying to make sense of everything she had just told me. "And, and… you're telling m-me, that _I _can resurrect someone from the dead?" I stammered.

"That is what accounts tell us, yes."

"But… I can only do that once?"

"Indeed."

"Professor McGonagall?"

"Yes, Harlow?"

"Can you please not tell anyone of this?" I saw her open her mouth to protest, but I quickly cut her off, "Please, Professor. Please don't tell anyone."

Minerva McGonagall affirmatively nodded and I gave her a meek smile of thanks before I silently slipped out of her office.

As if by chance, right as I was leaving McGonagall's office, Wood and Angelina passed by. Wood glanced at me and smirked with his arm protectively snaked around Angelina's waist. I was still in a daze from what I had just learned to really care about Wood's sly remark which would follow.

"Good thing your aim is pretty shit, if it were any better you might have actually done some damage," the obnoxious Quidditch captain taunted. Angelina gave me a sympathetic look, but I chose to ignore the happy couple for the time being. That is, until Angelina decided to speak up in my defense and I quickly snapped out of the daze I was in up until then.

"Oliver, she was actually the one who hel—," she began, but I quickly cut her off.

"Wood, you should be glad that I didn't hit that ball harder than I did. I'm starting to regret not killing you, actually," I snapped. I sent him a murderous glare before averting my attention to Angelina and repeating the gesture. I was not capable of a better comeback at the time, but I would not let Wood find out that I had _helped _him. There would be no saying that I'd never live that one down if he did. Wood snorted, pulled Angelina closer to him, and then left. I, on the other hand, was off to find the only two people that I had the courage to tell about my newfound "gift"; Fred and George Weasley.

"So, let's try and break this down…" a confused voice started. "You, Riley Nicole Harlow… can bring back people from the dead."

"Right," another voice, equally as confused as the previous, butted in. I had just finished retelling the twins what McGonagall had just told me.

"No, I, Riley Nicole Harlow, can bring back _person _from the dead," I explained.

"Still, that's pretty wicked even for the wizarding world," the first voice, which belonged to no other than Fred Weasley, exclaimed.

"Yeah, I'll have to agree with Fred, Rye. You can bring people back from the dead!" George yelled in astonishment.

"Oi, quiet down," I hushed George as we were in the Gryffindor common room and we weren't the only ones.

"Also, I presume you haven't told Wood that you were the one who saved him from eternal damnation?" George continued, his voice lower after my brief scolding.

"No, I haven't, and neither will you two," I warned.

"Yes, Mother," they teased. I grunted and folded my arms in front of my chest.


	6. Chapter 6: Making a Mess of Things

Making a Mess of Things

Two weeks had passed since the incident on the Quidditch pitch. Thankfully, nobody had informed Gryffindor's obnoxious team captain who it was that had saved his sorry arse when he fell. But, today was the day of the quidditch match. The first Quidditch match Gryffindor was playing without me as their chaser; the first game that I had to spend on the benches, cheering at the sweaty figures flying in front of me instead of being one of them.

I slowly made my way over to the section of the court benches that was occupied by most, if not all, the cheering Gryffindor students. Despite my greatest effort, I could not bring myself to cheer along with them, instead choosing to sit languorously on my chair; slouched over as I watched the new Gryffindor chaser grab the quaffle and make his way over to the opponent's hoops. He wasn't nearly as bad as I had imagined and covertly hoped, I had to admit, but he was nowhere as good as I was either. And in what seemed to be a jaundiced strike of rage, I had also started wishing that Gryffindor lost the match merely so that Wood could be shunned by Gryffindor for not letting me on due to his revolting obnoxiousness.

However, that did not happen. Instead, Gryffindor won by 210 points. The ecstatic mass shared their joy with the Quidditch team as they idolized their new chaser. I was no longer relevant, and they had long since chucked me out into the back of their minds along with their homework and work they should've been spending time on instead of celebrating something as insignificant as a quidditch match. And in the utter pandemonium that seemingly reverberated through all of Hogwarts, I managed to slip away unnoticed as I made a run for the lake.

"Pretty unusual place for a Gryffindor to be at this time," a voice from behind me called. I turned around and found Cedric Diggory's gray eyes staring straight at me.

"Yeah, didn't really feel like being there, to be quite frank," I explained.

"Oh, really, why is that?" he said whilst taking a seat next to me on the grass.

I was well acquainted with Cedric, though he was a year below me. Still, I blushed, merely because Cedric was one of those flawlessly righteous people and telling him that I had wanted the team to lose seemed embarrassing and selfish. And yet, Cedric seemed to see right through my troubles and comforted me immediately.

"You're a much better chaser than the new guy is, Rye. And besides, next year you can try out again, with Wood gone you might even have a shot at captain," he smiled. "No reason to mope now, you might as well go and have fun."

I smiled back widely at him; his voice alone making me feel better and more confident about going back and facing the rest of Gryffindor. "Thanks, Ced, but why are you out here anyway?"

"Oh, no reason, really. Just saw you and you looked like you needed a friend, so I decided to come over," he stated. "Anyway, you feel like joining your house and partying?" He stood up and reached his hand out for me to grab so he can help pull me up. I nodded thankfully before encasing my hand in his and gently being lifted off the ground.

With Cedric gone, my recently acquired confidence had diminished and I once again found myself feeling lost among the crowd of scarlet and gold.

"Oi, there you are! We've been looking for you, mate!" a tipsy George and Fred yelled as they made their way over to me.

"Where's the firewhiskey?" I demanded. George pointed over to a table which I pushed through to get to before grabbing some firewhiskey and chugging it. I needed a confidence boost and this was just the thing, so I chugged some more and more and more.

I woke up in a room that was certainly not my dorm room with a pulsing headache threatening to drive me mad. My mouth felt dry and I felt dehydrated while silently begging for water. I yawned and stretched my arms out as far as I could before hitting a barrier with my arms. I slowly turned around only to find a sleeping figure next to me with their back turned to mine. Staring at the person's bare back it was not hard to figure out that it was a boy in bed with me, and that's when I noticed that I was lying in bed completely nude.

Oh no, oh no, fuck no, this couldn't be happening. The headache and thirst I had seemed so irrelevant right now. Everyone's gonna have a field day with this, I can just imagine them gossiping right now. Maybe we didn't actually do anything? Maybe we were both completely fucked and just decided to strip and sleep in the same bed…? _Oh come on, Riley, that's the most fucking ridiculous thing you could come up with. _I stared at the clump of dark brown hair, terrified to see who it was. _What if it's a Slytherin? What if I bloody shagged a Slytherin? No, wait, what would a Slytherin be doing at a Gryffindor party? Oh come on, Rye, just stop being a pussy and check who it was. _I carefully peered over the person to check who it was, and the more I leaned over, the clearer the all-too familiar features of a certain quidditch captain became… suddenly, sleeping with a Slytherin didn't seem so terrible after all.


	7. Chapter 7: The Morning After

The Morning After

So, what's the protocol on this sort of stuff? You know, your vile quidditch captain popping your cherry, you not having any recollection of it whatsoever due to alcohol consumption, knowing that everyone will talk… One thing's for sure, there's no bloody way I'm waiting until he wakes up. _Maybe he won't remember? _... One can only fucking hope.

After hastily putting my clothes back on, I rushed back to my dorm room. Thankfully, nobody was awake yet and the Gryffindor silence was more than welcome considering my splitting headache. I hopped into the shower to think. You see, most people take showers to get clean and all that, but showers are a bloody perfect place to think. So I thought for ages and ages and still couldn't think of a single answer to my problem. This stuff just never happens to people. I think when I was born I absorbed everyone's bad luck, so now I have an abundance of it. I thought about what I'd tell Fred and George, they were certainly hammered last night, too… but obviously not nearly enough to sleep with the one person they hate. And Fred… Angelina… Angelina and Wood… Oh god.

Well, if I even had a reason to be mad with Angelina before, now I sure as hell didn't. I did something a million times worse than she ever did; I slept with her boyfriend, she just dated a guy I hated. Who I shagged. Oh god, I shagged Wood… I just don't see any scenario in which this abysmal turn of events will end up being "okay."

"Rye, is that you in there? The rest of us need to take showers, too! You going to be fast?" a girl from my dorm piped up.

"Yeah, just a minute," I replied as I was torn away from my thoughts. I quickly dried myself off, got dressed, and with wet hair and my head hung in shame I sprinted towards the Gryffindor dorm room in search of Fred and George. In all honesty, Angelina would have been a much better friend in a situation like this, but for obvious reasons I didn't quite feel like confiding in her that I shagged her boyfriend.

"Fred, George, wake up," I nudged them as they slept. "I really need to talk to you." Neither was too happy about the wake up as they reluctantly got out of bed.

"It was wake up time, anyway, stop whining. And I really need to talk to you," I said as I pulled them to a private room in which nobody would hear us. "I just really need you to be my best friends right now, okay? And preferably take on the personas of teenage girls to make for better advisers."

"Well, we don't have any polyjuice potion lying around, but we'll give it our best," Fred grinned. George nodded in agreement. "What seems to be the matter, Rye? You look awfully worried."

I looked up at Fred before averting my glance in shame once again. I paced around the room for a while trying to find the right words. "It's okay, Rye… just tell us what happened," George said sympathetically, aware now that the problem was rather grave.

"I slept with Wood," I whispered.

"We didn't quite catch that; care to repeat?" George said while getting closer to hear me.

"I said I slept with Wood," I repeated once again. George's eyes immediately sprung open and his jaw dropped to the floor. An anxious Fred stood a bit behind, waiting to hear what the drama was about. George, successfully assuming the teenage girl identity, immediately hugged me, and then pulled away and held me at my arms. "How sure are you of this?"

"Pretty sure," I huffed.

"Sure of what?" a curious, slightly annoyed, Fred piped up.

"She shagged Wood," George explained. Fred followed with a reaction identical to George's. "Fuckin' hell…" was all that he could muster.

"I mean, I don't remember what happened, but I woke up and we were both naked and in bed next to one another," I continued.

"Maybe you just decided to take all your clothes off and sleep next to each other?" George suggested.

"Seriously, George?"

"Yeah, it's complete bullshit. I'm just trying to cheer you up," he replied.

"You do know he's with Angelina," Fred stated.

"Yeah, I know. I don't know whether it should be me or him who should tell her…" I sighed. "I'm a horrible friend."

"Well, I mean, you don't even remember what happened, so it barely even counts!" George went on with his attempt at cheering me up, but to no avail.

"I'm so fucked," I repeated while banging the back of my head against the wall.


	8. Chapter 8: Skeletons in the Closet

Skeletons in the Closet

"Perhaps he doesn't remember what happened either, and doesn't know who it is he slept with…" Fred said as we walked into the Great Hall for breakfast. It was a nice thought, perhaps the only plausible one so far mentioned to cheer me up.

But the second we walked in, Wood's eyes were glued on me and he wasn't attempting to be subtle about it.

"Scratch that," Fred added.

The breakfast that followed would probably be forever carved into Hogwarts history as the single most awkward breakfast ever. Wood would stare at me every so often and it was difficult to believe that Angelina didn't see it. _Everyone _saw it. I bet even the blind kid from Hufflepuff saw it. The whispers at the table ensued swiftly, but thankfully nobody really knew what had happened. I hoped that someone else had an immensely shameful and embarrassing tale from last night which would occupy the mass' time instead of Wood's sudden fixation. I thought I should play it cool, pretend like nothing weird is going on, but after a while it just became too obvious to ignore, so I left the table. My appetite was never really there after learning about what I had done.

I hid in one of the Hogwarts closets in which nobody could find me except for the ghosts, but even they seldom lurked into the closets. I had no idea how long I had been there before I heard the door opening. I quickly sat up, straightened myself to see who it was and to not appear like the bloody mess which I was.

To my dread, it was of course, no one else but Oliver Wood.

"How'd you find me in here?" I asked as I began to leave, but Wood pulled me back and backed me up against the wall. He placed a hand each on the wall next to my head and inched forward.

"I know you better than you think, Harlow," he said arrogantly as always. "At least I thought I did."

"Can you just leave me alone, Wood?" I replied in more of a tormented whisper than the confident approach I was going for. It made me seem weak and I hated it.

"No," he replied bluntly. "I came here to tell you that I would appreciate it if you don't tell anyone about last night."

"I told Fred and George and had no intention of telling anyone else, but the whole school is whispering now that you oh-so-subtly stared at me through all of breakfast!" I said accusingly.

"I'll say we had an argument last night," he explained.

"They'll _totally _buy that. We argue almost every day and nothing happens! And besides, sooner or later someone will remember that both of us went MIA during the party."

"Just don't tell anyone, Harlow. Alright? I'll deal with it," he said.

"Yeah, as if I believe you on that, Wood. You always brag about each girl you bed. What is it? Am I a fucking shame to you? I'm too fucking ugly to have shagged Oliver Wood?" I yelled.

"It's not that, Riley! Do you _want _everyone to know? Make up your damn mind! What the heck is wrong with you?" he yelled. "Just let me deal with the rest of the school and don't tell anyone else, alright?"

"Fine. The less people know, the happier I am. If you actually manage to not let anyone find out, perhaps I'll actually grow some respect for you," I said.

"Considering I'm doing something to help you, you could be a little nicer," he went on.

"Well, this all could have been avoided had you just kept your dick in your trousers!" I yelled.

"We were both pissed, are you seriously going to blame this on me? So bloody typical of you – never taking any responsibility for your own actions!" he yelled back.

"Well, you obviously had less to drink since you actually remember what happened," I snapped back.

This caught him off guard as his expression immediately became softer. "You mean, you don't remember any of it?"

I nodded.

"Oh," was all he replied for a while. He eventually turned around to leave, but appeared to have remembered something in the last moment. "Hey, Harlow?"

"Mhm?"

"Was it really, you know, your first…?"

"yeah."

"Oh…" he whispered as he opened the door of the closet.

"I'm sorry," he added and with it left the room.


	9. Chapter 9: Fortuna Major

Fortuna Major

"Wood said he's sorry," Fred started, his words cautious as he couldn't believe them himself.

"Right," I confirmed.

"To you," he finished.

"Yeah, it was odd," I said while nodding. "He also called me Riley at one point. I bet he's scheming against me as we speak. He hasn't made a single decent gesture towards me in years, there's no reason he should start now, especially when he has the upper hand."

"The upper hand?" Fred wondered.

"Well, yeah, he remembers what happened and I don't," I explained. "He's clearly in a better position than I am."

"Rye, for once I really doubt that this is a competition as it usually is between the two of you," George said joining in on the conversation. "I mean, he didn't seem like he was trying to put you down during breakfast or embarrass you in any way."

"Well, that's exactly what he succeeded in as the entire hall was talking about it. Well, at least the entire Gryffindor table was. And what will I do about Angelina?"

Fred and George both seemed to be deep in thought about possible solutions for a whole ten minutes. Simultaneously, they both replied with a, "no clue."

I smacked my palm against my forehead, aware that I needed to tell her even though Wood asked of me not to tell anyone.

"Hey, guys?" I said whilst getting up from the seat, "I'm going to find Angie. I know I should tell her. I need to man up!"

I peeked through the door of the dormitory to see whether Angelina was there.

"Angie?" I whispered as she immediately looked up, surprised to see me. "Can I talk to you? Over in the other room?"

Angie nodded, got off her bed and continued towards the private room while I shuffled behind, trying to control the knot in my throat.

"So, what did you want to talk to me about?" she said with a sigh as she closed the door.

"I'm sorry about getting mad before, I overreacted," I began, trying to ease her into what I really wanted to tell her.

"It's okay, I s'pose. I went the wrong way about telling you, anyway," she smiled. "It's all in the past if you can come to terms with me dating Wood?"

I nodded reluctantly, putting off telling her for as long as I could.

"Rye?"

"Yeah?"

"What was that all about at breakfast?"

I did my best to speak, I really did, but words sort of failed me so I just stared at the ground as Angelina went on talking, her voice becoming angrier with every word.

"Just tell me the truth, Rye. I'm not stupid, I know Oliver disappeared from the party at one point and nobody knew where he was. Was he with you?"

This time I managed a glance, a simple glance at her and though I didn't utter a single word it was enough for her to understand.

"And you were the one pissed at me? Are you serious! You go sleeping with my boyfriend and you're angry at me!"

"I don't even recall anything," I choked out.

"Oh really? That just makes it fucking okay, then!"

"I never said that," I whispered.

"No, but it's what you meant! Don't even bother talking to me anymore, it's enough I have to sleep in the same room as you!" she said, storming out. As she opened the door, the clutter of Gryffindor girls dispersed as they attempted to seem inconspicuous and not caught in the act. In contrast to my mortified face, Angelina looked as though she hadn't even noticed them. But then again, she wasn't facing the disapproving looks of every girl in the dorm.

I ran out of the dorm room, past Fred and George, past all the gossiping Gryffindors and back into the closet which I had hid in earlier. I stayed in there all through Herbology and Charms, not really wanting to deal with all the gossip which was probably echoing throughout the entire school.

I peered through the door and turned my head both left and right to check whether anyone was there. It was dark outside and the moon provided the only light in this particular hallway. I hadn't even noticed that I had spent all day inside the closet as I thought about nothing and yet everything at the same time. It's weird that thinking about nothing makes time fly.

I started tiptoeing to the Tower, but changed my mind when I remembered what I would be coming back to.

_Oh stop acting like such an idiot, Riley. Man up! It could have been worse… you could have ended up like Gwyneth Stone's sister; knocked up and expelled in my fifth year. Even if I am pregnant, at least I would have made it a year more than she has. Oh god, what if I'm pregnant? I should ask Wood… he remembers._

_Great. As if I didn't have enough to worry about. _

"_Fortuna Major!" _I said as I walked up to the portrait which flung open the entrance to the Common Room.

Fortuna major_, for fuck's sake, even the portraits are making fun of me now. In _Latin_ at that!_

Sure enough, my attempt at a quiet entrance failed and was turned into a grand one judging by the whispering, gasps and disgusted faces which ensued.


	10. Chapter 10: Making Amends

A/N: 

So, this is a short bridge chapter. I needed some chapters without Wood popping up everywhere Riley goes. I promise the next one will be longer and will have Wood in it. (:

Making Amends

"Rye, Rye, we were so worried about you," Fred exclaimed running towards me and engulfing me with his long arms.

"Seriously, Fred?" I replied whilst arching one of my eyebrows.

He nodded frantically, "seriously."

"Where were you? You'll be in detention until the end of the year!" George intercepted.

"It doesn't really matter. And for once, Professor Snape did me a favour by giving me detention. At least I won't have to put up with _that _until the end of the year," I said, pointing at the accusatory faces.

"Oh come on, cheer up," George started. "It isn't really that bad."

Fred merely gave out a snort as I glared at him.

"So, it's not the greatest, but I bet everyone will forget about it soon!" George yelled.

"George, this is Hogwarts. In case you haven't noticed there aren't really too many scandals here. Hogwarts scandals usually involve You-Know-Who and basilisks and whatnot… they're hardly ever drunken mistakes."

"Well, someone else must've done _something_," he argued.

"I think I'll just sit in detention until the end of time."

I looked around the room looking for a forgiving face, but to no avail. Alicia didn't even bother looking at me while Katie shook her head in disapproval.

"Do you reckon I should talk to Angie?"

"No!" the twins screeched in unison.

"Okay, okay…" I said, trying to calm them down. "She's that pissed, eh?"

"Well, wouldn't you be?"

"Fair point. Are her and Wood still an item?"

"We don't really know, but we're guessing they probably aren't," Fred said. "I want to be bloody captain! Wood doesn't even care about anything but quidditch and still manages to get both you and Angelina!"

"He hardly _got _me, Fred. I was completely pissed and I don't even remember what happened! ... Can I sleep with one of you guys tonight? I just don't feel like going back to my dorm tonight, I have a feeling the mood is rather hostile towards me there," I pleaded.

"Yeah, it's fine," Fred and George smiled.

"I think I'm going to go see Angelina," I said firmly after thinking about it for a few more minutes. "I can't do more harm than I already have."

George opened his mouth to protest, but I quickly ran off towards the stairs.

As I made my way up to the girls' dormitory, I became less confident about my confrontation with Angelina with every step I took. When I reached the room, I peered through, scanning the dormitory and the girls inside. To my luck, everyone was in the Common Room except Angelina who was sitting on her bed and reading.

"Hey," I whispered while walking in. Angelina turned to make sure it was me, looked around to make sure I wasn't talking to anyone else, and continued reading.

"So, you're still angry I take it," I started. "I mean, it only has been 9 hours, so you're obviously still angry, but I figured I could make conversation that way. I was obviously mistaken."

I shifted around awkwardly for a few moments while Angelina ignored me and read.

"I'm sorry about sleeping with your boyfriend, Angelina. I'm sorry I slept with Wood. I didn't mean on having it happen. Hell, I don't even _remember _what happened! And if there's one thing you can believe with certainty, it is that I don't want anything to do with Wood."

"Oh sod off, Riley! This isn't even about Wood and you know it. I mean, he's hardly boyfriend material and it was never too serious. He'd just talk about quidditch all the time anyway, every so often giving me the opportunity to snog him. You bloody well know this isn't about him. It's about you, being one of my best friends, and sleeping with someone who is supposedly _mine_. You obviously don't give a fuck about how I feel and if Wood and you can't be civil towards one another, well then you just can't stand him being pleasant to anyone else!" she yelled while chucking her book at me. I ducked as the book hit the wall behind me before straightening my robes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean for any of it to happen, Angie. I really didn't," I said as truthfully as I could.

Angelina nodded before speaking up again. "I know, but I'm not forgiving you anytime soon. I'm sorry everyone found out. That was too evil, even for me. I was just really mad."

"It's okay, I guess I had it coming," I said and smiled meekly before leaving the room.


	11. Chapter 11: The Fireplace

The Fireplace

"Where the bloody hell is Harlow?"

The Scottish accent and the voice were easily recognizable.

"Wood, all things considered, you probably don't want to make a scene here asking for her. You'll just give 'em something else to talk about."

"Shut up, George."

I lingered on the staircase as I didn't want to confront Wood, but I didn't feel like going back to the dormitory either.

The stone stairs sent a chill through my spine as I sat down to rest on them while waiting for Wood to leave. I attempted to peer out the window, but I was too short in my sitting position and could only see the dark clouds moving in on the castle. As the conversation between Wood and George subsided, a second-year made her way up the stairs. She smiled at me as I shuffled over towards the wall to make space for her to pass. It was as if she was unaware of all the gossip surrounding me even though that was seemingly difficult to believe. _Everyone_ knew about it, but the girl even had the courtesy of muttering a meek "thanks" as she continued her way up the spiraling staircase.

I stayed on the staircase for a while, watching the night creep up on the castle and the rain start pouring. It made a thumping sound as it hit the windowsill which was oddly calming. It almost made me unaware of the groups of girls walking by and staring at me.

I tiptoed down to the bottom of the stairs to make my footsteps as inaudible as possible and peered through to have a look at the Common Room. Thankfully, Wood was nowhere in sight. The common room was empty except for Harry, Hermione and Ron occupying the area around the fireplace.

I attempted to pass by unnoticed, but Hermione heard me and turned around, startled by my sudden presence.

"Blimey, Rye! You scared me!" Ron screamed.

"Oh, sorry, I tried to be quiet so as not to disturb you. Where is everyone?" I said, still whispering and doing my best to be as quiet as possible.

"Probably in bed, it was quite a long day," Hermione added.

I nodded in agreement.

"I'm sorry about the whole thing with Wood," Hermione said sympathetically.

"Yeah, me too," I replied. "Listen, I don't mean to impose, so I'll be off now."

"Where are you going to go at this time?" Harry asked. "Sneaking around the castle isn't as much fun as it's made out to be, the three of us would know. Sit here with us for a bit. I can imagine you need a friend right now."

I smiled and nodded before making my way over to the fireplace. I sat down cross legged next to Hermione.

"So, anything particularly special about the fireplace or are you just huddling around to warm up?" I said.

"Err, it's quite a long story actually," Harry said, trying to remain mysterious.

"Right, of course it is," I said. "Everything you three do is a long story, isn't it?"

"Not by our own choosing, I assure you," Ron interjected. "If I could have it my way, we would never be involved in any long stories."

"Oh man up, Ron," Hermione huffed. "Stop being such a coward."

Harry laughed at their bickering and I decided to join in.

"So, is everyone in Gryffindor shunning you as if you were a Death Eater?" Ron asked.

Hermione elbowed Ron in the rib to tell him to shut up, but Ron didn't seem to get the hint as he let out a painful yell.

"It's okay, 'Mione," I said while laughing. "Yeah, I'm not exactly a living, breathing example of Gryffindor student traits right now and they're not too happy with me. You're probably the only people who even want to talk to me. Hopefully they'll forget about it by next year, though I doubt I'll ever get rid of the reputation."

"I'm sorry about it all. I'm sure they'll forget about it soon," Harry added.

"I'm hoping for a scandal of epic proportions to cast the shame away from me, but it all seems pretty hopeless," I continued. "I'm hoping Sirius Black makes an appearance, to be honest."

The group shuffled around uneasily as I mentioned Black.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Harry," I quickly apologized, realizing my stupidity. "I didn't mean it _that _way. I don't really want him here. I sometimes really don't think about what I say… or do. You might have noticed that this morning."

"It's fine, Rye, it really is," he said through a rather genuine smile.

_That's great, Rye. Tell them that you want Sirius Black here. You really can't do anything well, can you?_

"I should probably leave before I say something equally as stupid. I'm so so sorry. Good night you three," I muttered while getting up.

"I've been looking for you for all day, Harlow," a voice from behind me said. Once again, the Scottish accent was impossible to mistake.

I turned around and surely, Oliver Wood was there, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Wood, listen can we do this some other ti—"

"No," he said, cutting me off. I could see that he was fuming and trying to contain his anger as much as possible. "Let's go somewhere private. Harry, we've got practice tomorrow morning, you better not be tired."

I sent Harry a sympathetic look as I knew how Wood got about his quidditch. I'd like to think that I wasn't as fanatical about it as he was.

Wood grabbed me by the arm and dragged me off outside of Gryffindor tower.

"Where are we going?" I whispered so that none of the patrolling teachers would hear me.

"Shut up, Harlow."

He tightened his grip around my arm, dragging me down a flight of stairs with him. When we got to the bottom, he looked over to make sure there wasn't anyone in sight. When he was sure that nobody had seen us, he pulled me through a secret passageway behind a painting.

"Where are we?" I said in awe.

"It's a secret passageway which leads outside. I found out about it from Fred and George when we snuck out to play quidditch," he said, while taking a seat on the ground.

"Of course, why else would you ever sneak out and risk your position on the team," I scoffed.

He decided to ignore my remark and continued with what he had intended.

"We won't go any further. Nobody is going to find us here," he stated.

"That's great," I remarked sarcastically.

"Shut up, Harlow. I can't bloody believe you!" he began his rant. "One bloody thing I ask of you to do, to keep your mouth shut, and you fail to do it! Can't you do anything right? And to make matters even more interesting, _you _tell _me _that if I can keep it a secret you will actually start to have some respect for me! Fuck you, Harlow! I really wouldn't give a fuck about it, but now everyone's talking about it. _Everyone. _This is my last chance to win the Cup, Harlow. I really don't need people giving me looks because of a shag when I'm doing my best to focus on the upcoming match!"

"Way to care about your girlfriend, Wood," I snorted.

"Ex-girlfriend, thanks to you. And it was never serious with her anyway. If it was, she would have been angrier with me than she is with you. At best, her ego is bruised a tad. That is not the main issue here; have you even been listening to me?"

"Yes, I have. Okay, everyone found out, it was my fault. Deal with it. And I'm _so _sorry that you're having trouble with your quidditch team, Wood. If I recall this is the same team you kicked me off of because I wouldn't comply with your ridiculous requests!"

"You're so fucking stubborn. You never listen to anyone and have no regard for authority. I'm your captain, therefore you listen to me. Hell, you wouldn't even listen to one thing I asked you to do that would work to your advantage!"

"I have no issues with authority, it is only you I dislike being subordinate to," I stated matter-of-factly.

"Well, good thing you're off the quidditch team and don't have to deal with that anymore," he smirked.

"Fuck off, Wood," I yelled, but he immediately muffled my screams by putting his hand to my mouth. He was inches away from me and using his other hand put a finger to his mouth to signalize that I should be quiet.

"Someone might hear us, Harlow," he said and took his hand off my mouth.

"We're in a secret passageway, Wood. The chances of someone actually hearing us through the stone and shit is almost non-existant. So I'll fucking yell if I want to," I said, my voice rising with every word. I then decided to start screaming everything that comes to mind simply to prove a point. "I fucking hate you, Wood! Shagging a completely drunk girl is even low for you, you know that! I hate you! You've made a goddamn mess of everything, but it's not as if you give a fuck since you're leavi—"

Wood shuffled around nervously, scared that somebody will hear my yelling. He seemed to be scanning for options to make me shut up, but as my yells grew louder he seemed at a loss about what to do. Suddenly, he pushed me towards the wall and pressed his lips to mine.


	12. Chapter 12: Back at the Beginning

Back at the Beginning

He didn't really kiss me. He just pressed his lips to mine and shut his eyes tight. He was probably trying not to visualize what he was doing – snogging his worst mistake. I didn't really know how to react, so I stood there and did _nothing._ I was doing my best to think; a single wrong move could cost me a lifetime of witty remarks from Wood.

Wood parted his lips from mine slowly, taking his time to make sure I felt his breath on me. He opened his eyes only to adjust his facial expression back to the pissed off one he had previously.

"You going to be quiet now?" he said. For the first time in my life, I was at a loss for words. My nod was slow and drawn out. I was careful not to make a mistake as my mind was racing with all sorts of thoughts, but at the same time was completely blank.

"Good." Wood's face turned into an almost evil smirk as he continued to speak, unfazed by his rash action. "You know you're blushing, Harlow?"

"I'm not," I cried in disgust.

"You are, and that is a horrible comeback even for you," he said. I scoffed in disapproval, but he ignored me.

A few more minutes passed by in silence as Wood paced back and forth in the passageway, seemingly deep in thought. I slid down to take a seat on the floor, still in shock over the recent turn of events.

"Why'd you do that?" I blurted out.

Wood stopped his pacing, glanced over at me and gave out a little laugh. "Oh, don't think too much of it. It's just impossible to shut you up and this seemed like the only effective solution. It's no big deal, Harlow. I mean, perhaps it would have been had we not shagged, but kissing is sort of three steps down from there."

"Can we not mention that, Wood?" I pleaded. "I just really want to forget about that – not that there is much to forget since I don't remember anything in the first place."

"Do you really not remember anything at all?" Wood said seriously. He was never serious around me. He would always mask everything around me with insults, smirks and witty retorts.

Once again, I found myself repeating the slow, drawn out nod.

"What's the last thing you remember?" he interrogated.

"I don't know, Wood. Please, can we not talk about it?" I continued in a pleading manner. I seemed desperate, but hell, I was.

"Just tell me what the last thing you remember is!"

Neither of us wanted to back down, but I realized that the quickest way to get back to the Common Room was to tell him what he wanted to know.

"I remember the party, then going by the lake to clear my head. Diggory was there and we chatted for a bit. I headed back to the common room later and started chugging the firewhiskey. Next thing I know, I'm waking up in bed with you. I sneaked out and hoped you wouldn't remember anything either," I said.

"But I do," he stated.

"But you do," I replied in a whisper. The awkward silence seemed to never end as the reality of what had happened actually began to sink in and while he presumably thought about what deflowering me was like.

"I think I'm going to head back," I whispered.

"Alright," he replied. "Let me see if anyone is there."

He walked over to the entrance of the passageway from which we came to check whether there was anyone patrolling.

"It's clear," he whispered before motioning for me to follow him. I got up off the ground and perched myself up behind him.

"Let's go," he whispered again and automatically grabbed my hand as if I was a little child which needed guidance. I'm not sure why I didn't momentarily whisk it away from his, but for some reason my hand felt at ease with our fingers intertwined. His grip tightened as we started climbing the stairs. "Be careful now," he said as I tried to make myself seem as unobtrusive as possible on the white marble in my black robe. I tiptoed to the top, hoping that the staircase doesn't move. For once, it seemed as though luck was on my side.

When we finally entered the Common Room Wood immediately pushed my hand away from his. I really had to hand it to him; he did his best to show his disdain for me even after kissing me or holding my hand.

I sighed, both physically and emotionally exhausted from the day.

"I'm off to bed, Wood," I said while yawning. There was so much we needed to talk about, but I didn't feel like discussing any of it. I just wanted to curl myself into a fetal position and preferably never wake up again.

Wood was surprised when both of us started making our way up the same staircase and furrowed his brow.

For some reason, I started explaining myself even though I didn't owe him a single explanation.

"I didn't feel like sleeping in my dormitory. It's quite a hostile environment for a girl who slept with her best friend's boyfriend, really," I said through a laugh trying to lift the mood.

"Why do you sleep in the twins' beds when distraught?" he asked. His question seemed genuine, almost caring, it wasn't something I was accustomed to from Oliver Wood.

"I don't know, I just don't like sleeping on my own and the twins are like brothers to me," I explained.

"You snogged one of your 'brothers'," he stated, alluding to the previous incident when I was kicked off the team.

"That was merely to spite you," I answered.

"Why would I care?"

The question formed a knot in my throat, my walking became slower and I immediately hung my head. The walk up to the dormitories was up until that point one of the most civil conversations Wood and I had in the past few years. Of course, one question from him and we were back at the beginning again.

I was in front of the sixth year dormitories while Wood had another flight of stairs. I figured, this couldn't get any more awkward than it already was, so I had nothing to lose by asking him what I had always wondered.

"What changed? Why did you start acting like an arse?"

Wood was seemingly caught off guard by my sudden question. He looked uneasy as he searched for an answer, but didn't seem to come up with anything satisfactory. And then, as quickly as he lost it, he managed to regain his composure. His stone cold look was back and complete apathy towards me apparent in his voice. And then, just as I thought he couldn't say anything that would get a rise out of me more than his '_why would I care?', _Wood managed to one-up himself with a question that would be forever etched into my brain.

"Does it really even matter?"

_Does it really even matter?_

Was he fucking serious?


	13. Chapter 13: Ask Me Anything

Ask Me Anything

"What do you mean _'does it even matter'_? Of course it bloody matters, Wood!" I tried to whisper, but it came out as a whispered yell. A tormented, whispered yell. Wood stopped on the third step and turned around to stare at me.

How could he ask me whether it mattered after everything he has put me through? I was so distraught that I was shaking. I did my best to stop the tears from escaping my eyes, but there was no stopping them. I wasn't even crying because I was sad, it was just everything.

"You put me through hell; you kick me off the team to spite me when you damn well know how much I love quidditch and that I'm brilliant at it; you _shag _me and treat me as if I am some disposable whore of yours which was too bloody low even for you," I started yelling, but my roars retreated back to whimpers as I caught myself regretting the last thing I told him. "But worst of all, you made me lose my best friend."

Wood was staring at his shoes, for the first time since I've known him, he looked ashamed. Thankfully for him, I had just managed to make an even bigger fool of myself by sobbing and confessing, so his show of humility went rather unnoticed.

"I've got a feeling you're not talking about Angelina," he whispered. I barely heard him from the sound of my own sniffles and crying which I was doing my best to keep as inaudible as I could.

"Could we for once just talk normally?" I asked. "Just once? Cut the bullshit between us and the smirks and the remarks and insults and simply _talk_?"

He eyed me intently for a while, making sure I wasn't trying to trick him, before nodding and taking a seat on the step he was standing on. He patted a spot next to him to signalize that I should join him. I had managed to stop my crying and had returned my breathing pattern to normal.

As I took my seat next to him, Wood stared at the stone wall in front of him.

"Ask me anything," he said. "Anything except _why_."

"That's really not fucking fair. You agree to have a conversation and answer _all _my questions except the one I really want to know the answer to," I huffed.

"Well, it's my only ultimatum, take it or leave it," he said, not sounding particularly interested in what I am saying.

"Fine," I smirked, thinking that I had just outwitted him. "Tell me _why _it is that I can ask you anything except _why?"_

He arched his head my way and furrowed his brows before sighing. "I suppose I didn't set that as an ultimatum."

"No, you didn't," I interjected.

"I don't want to tell you because it's stupid."

I was really doing my best to keep the conversation civil and without our usual bickering, but he was really making it difficult for me.

"You're telling me that the reason you hated me for all this time, all of a sudden, is so stupid that you can't even tell me?" I was growing more frustrated with every word that he spoke.

"I thought we were going to have a normal conversation, Riley. A conversation without arguing," he said defensively.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sorry. It's just, you are such an arsehole to me," I explained.

"You didn't exactly make things easy on me either!" he defended once again.

"Oh please, I only started acting like that after you decided to humiliate me whenever you got the chance!"

I know we were trying to have a "normal conversation," but it seems that with Wood and I arguing _is _what we considered normal conversation. Our voices were once again getting louder as we became seemingly unaware that we were right in front of dormitories that 6th years were sleeping in.

Both of us decided that we should sit in silence for a few moments, so that we could calm down.

It was all finally beginning to catch up with me. Up until then, I refused to think about it and the consequences my actions had, but sitting there in silence, staring at the wall next to Wood gave me no option but to think.

I lost my virginity to _Wood. _And on top of that, I seemed to have developed a soft spot for him now. I even asked him to have a _normal conversation._ For some reason, I thought that he might still be my best friend Wood _now that I had slept with him. _But in all honesty, he's probably still the same arse he always was. I mean, he took advantage of me and after taking my virginity has the nerve to tell me that he can't say why he hates me because it's _stupid. _He openly admits the reason he hates me is _stupid _and expects me to be alright with that!

And on top of that, I'm a fucking ancient healer. I even healed _him_! I should have let him die. I should have kicked him off that broom and let him die there and none of this would have ever happened.

I did my best to repress it all, but it was coming back to me now at the worst moment possible – while I was trying to talk to Wood. I did my best to stop the tears, I really did, but they somehow had a mind of their own. They decided that the best timing for me to cry was while I was around Wood, so that he could see the pathetic mess he has reduced me to; the pathetic mess he had been trying to make me for the last two and a half years.

I hoped that he wouldn't notice I was crying because I did a pretty good job of muffling my sobs, but at one point I felt short of breath and had to draw a deep breath which gave it all away.

Wood turned to look at me, startled by my sudden outburst of emotion. It wasn't usual for me to cry like that. I might have been impulsive, but never one to cry often.

He seemed to want to say something, but didn't know what.

"Can you leave me alone for a bit, Wood?" I asked while sniffling.

His stare was intense and it was making me uncomfortable. I was half expecting him to start laughing in my face now that he truly has something to make fun of me for.

"No."

His answer caught me off guard.

"What do you mean 'no'?" I asked, tripping over my own words.

"I said _no,_" he repeated slowly to make sure I understood as if I was some little child which needed explaining.

"Wood, listen, I'm really not in the mood for one of your games," I whispered. I had to make an effort to force my words out over my sobs.

"I'm not playing games, Harlow," he said sternly. "I'm simply not going to leave until you stop crying."

"As if you care."

"What are you, 2? Must we do the whole 'as if you care' thing again? I'm not leaving until you stop crying and that's that."

I stifled my sniffles and cries to the best of my ability before adding in a "there! All better, now leave."

Wood wasn't going to leave so easily.

"Listen, Harlow, you're the best chaser we have, to be honest. If you want to come back, there's a spare spot waiting for you."

"Oh yes, that would be lovely. The entire school finds out we slept together and then I'm back on the quidditch team? Yeah, that would be great. I wouldn't seem like a whore _at all_ that way!"

"Okay, okay, I was just trying to do you a favour!"

"No, you weren't! You were just trying to win the quidditch cup! It's always quidditch with you!" I argued. Before my anger got out of control, I tried to diffuse the situation. "Seriously Wood, couldn't you have stopped before we actually, you know, _did _anything?"

He sighed and looked down at the stairs for the first time since I began my little cry-fest. I had at least managed to get my crying under control, but instead, now my anger was taking over. Somehow, it seemed that with Wood I could never be _normal_, but would alternate between being a banshee and a mess_._

"I didn't know you were _that _drunk. I thought you were just a bit tipsy," said defensively.

"Well, you were wrong," I stated matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, I guess I was," he whispered.

"This has been such a fucking nightmare of a year. Everything that could have possibly gone wrong did and I'm not even talking about sleeping with you or the whole thing with Black. It's just that everything has been so out of control that I honestly didn't need _this _on top of it all. I mean you, you're graduating this year and you're really not being blackballed by every single female in this damn school, or guy. And then all the other crap on top of that," I yelled.

"Keep your voice down, Harlow!" He whispered while putting his hand over my mouth to shut me up. I shut my eyes and took three deep breaths to calm myself.

"What do you mean by _other crap_?" he inquired.

I pondered for a while whether or not I should tell him that it was _me _who healed him by merely touching him, but what were the chances he would believe me? I mean, it was pretty amazing even for the wizarding world.

"Nothing particularly important," I replied. He looked over at me, eyeing me carefully. Thankfully, he decided not to press the matter further. The silence continued for 15 more minutes before I decided I need to end our ridiculous bickering and even more ridiculous attempt at a conversation.

"Wood, I'm so tired of this constant arguing and everything with you. Can we just agree not to argue anymore?" I started, but midway through my speech thought of an even better idea. "How about we just avoid each other from now on? That way we avoid all the shite between us and get on with our lives. Hopefully, everyone will forget what had happened between us sooner rather than later."

I could have sworn that Wood seemed almost disappointed by my proposal, but his voice was confident as ever when he replied, the way I was used to it being.

"Okay," he said, got up and left up the stairs to his dormitory while I returned to the twins' dormitory.


	14. Chapter 14: Making it Through the Summer

A/N:

Soooo sooo sorry for the hiatus! I assume most of you haven't read my about me and I didn't have any other method of informing you. My laptop had broken down and all my fanfiction was on it, so I couldn't get anything posted until I got it fixed. I have another chapter which I have already completed, so I will be posting it shortly! For now, enjoy, r&r (:

Making it Through the Summer

3 Months Later

"Honey, did you take the cake I set on the table?" my mother yelled.

"Yes, Mum," I replied while going back to the kitchen to take the cake which I had, in fact, forgotten to take. It was much easier to lie about something so little than to burden yourself and others with something so meaningless. Mum loved to burden herself with these things, she'd stress over it as if it were the end of the world and would go on to say how I'm irresponsible and can't remember to do the only thing I had been asked to.

I was home for the summer since the school year had finished. Wood and I always dreaded summer holidays since that meant we would be seeing a lot of each other considering how close our families were; this year, unfortunately, was no exception. Actually, this year the World Cups were being held which meant camping out with the Woods. It also meant that I couldn't spend the summer at the Burrow to avoid unpleasant encounters with Wood. All in all, it was a nightmare for me.

Wood and I hadn't really spoken since that night on the staircase in the Common Room. It was easier now that I didn't have to worry about him being a dick all the time. Gryffindor won the Quidditch cup, so Wood got his dream, I guess; without me on the team. That probably made it 100x more satisfying for him – knowing that he won _without me _there to spoil it for him, because now that he won without me he knew he was right that they didn't need me on the team. Surprisingly, he didn't even send a smirk my way when he lifted the Cup. No, his smirk was directed towards a petite 5th year. Understandably so, it was the end of the season, Gryffindor had just won the Cup, so he could afford a few minutes of not thinking about Quidditch.

"Kieran, did you grab everything I told you to?" Mum yelled as I walked over to her and Dad.

"Yes, Mum," my little brother replied while entering the hallway, his arms packed with all sorts of food and drinks to take to the Woods. Mum was tapping her foot impatiently by the door as Dad looked eager to leave.

"I don't see why we go through this much trouble to simply walk down the street to the Woods' house. I mean, Anne and you drink coffee together every morning, yet we go through all this formality every year as if we're meeting for the first time," I huffed to Mum.

"Riley, it's common courtesy to bring someone a gift when you go to their house for dinner," Dad replied with one foot out of the door already.

"Yeah, but it's the Woods we're talking about! I just don't see the reason for all this formality," I argued. "Not to mention that every year we take all the food we have with us, not just a pie or something."

Both Mum and Dad decided to ignore me as we walked to the Woods. They were quite literally just down the street waiting for us to appear, but when our parents finally met up their heartily hugs would have made one believe they haven't seen each other in years rather than 3 hours.

"Oliver is out back practicing his flying, dear," Morgan replied while enveloping me in a hug. Kieran and I both nodded as we made our way through the house over to the back. Wood and I silently agreed to be on somewhat friendly terms during these family get-togethers years ago and have since decided not to discuss our falling out with our parents. They never did ask too much, though they noticed our obvious hatred towards one another and every so often Mum would slyly remark how "she never figured out what had happened to us when we used to be so close." Knowing that Morgan resembled Mum in the way she went about family business, I'm sure Wood was met with the same exact remarks and our individual reactions were analyzed in detail between the two over morning coffee. They never did get too much out of us, however; even though I'm sure they had all the possible scenarios down in detail.

Kieran sprinted towards Wood as we stepped onto the grass at the other end of the house. I wasn't as enthusiastic as Kieran was to approach him. I still wasn't entirely over the fact that I had lost my virginity to him. I had to learn the hard way that when someone sees you naked, you're automatically self-conscious around them even if you hate them.

Talk around the school about the incident had died down in the meantime, but I'm pretty sure that if someone asked for the name of the "Gryffindor green-eyed brunette sixth year" everyone would look clueless until they mentioned that it was the same girl who drunkenly slept with the Gryffindor quidditch captain.

"Hey," I said meekly. Kieran had since run over to Wood and was now watching him explain something about flying a broom. He looked up from the broom which Kieran was gliding his hand over, amazed by the smoothness of the wood. "Oh, hey," was all he muttered before returning to his previous activity. This was the first half-arsed excuse for a conversation that Wood and I had had since our agreement to ignore each other.

Wood's lecture continued for another 10 minutes while Kieran's gaze remained glued on the broom. Every single Harlow so far was a huge quidditch enthusiast, so it was only natural for Kieran to follow in our steps. Dad was a beater when he went to Hogwarts and still liked to play with his friends, Mum might have seemed like a lady during these dinner parties but at quidditch matches she became the world's biggest groupie. My uncle was actually a professional chaser and had played for Wimbourne; my parents often tell me that I remind them of him when playing.

It was amusing because although we are all quidditch fans in my family, we could never agree on a single team to remain loyal to. I began rooting for Puddlemere simply to remain neutral during my parents' disputes. Dad was a stinger and greeted the news of Mum's brother being _the _Benjamin Bell of The Wimbourne Wasps with great enthusiasm, whereas Mum huffed at the very mention of the team name. Mum was, as you could have already gathered, an arrow. She was the Appleby Arrow's #1 groupie and would frequently recount her days of skipping school to go see them play.

"Children, it's time for dinner. Come on in," Morgan shouted from the door. The sun had already set, but some light still remained allowing Kieran to clearly make out the ash handle.

"Come on, let's go have dinner. Perhaps they'll let us come out again later and you could try fly a bit with me," Wood explained to Kieran. Kieran's face lit up immediately; it was all he talked about. This year he would be starting at Hogwarts, and all that he could talk about was how he'd finally be able to fly a broom.

I quickly trailed off towards the door, not having said anything since my greeting to Wood while the pair of them remained, still chatting about flying and brooms.


	15. Chapter 15: The Dinner

The Dinner

"You're definitely giving me the recipe for this soup, Morgan," Mum exclaimed with delight. This is exactly the problem I had with these annual dinner parties; the Woods were, as difficult as it is to admit, a second family. We could kick back and relax and watch TV with them, barge into their house whenever we wanted, sleep over, and so on, and yet always during these dinner parties we seemed so estranged. It's as if they wanted to channel some faux-poshness which made everything so unnatural.

_Or maybe that's just me over-analyzing the whole situation because every year for an hour or two I have to sit next to Oliver Wood and smile as if I'm enjoying myself._

"So, Kieran is beginning his first year in Hogwarts," Sean, Wood's dad, began.

"Yeah, he can't wait to be taught how to fly. It's all he's been talking about recently," Dad replied. Kieran blushed, but his enthusiasm was endless.

And then, Wood had to ruin everything and lead them onto the one topic I didn't want them to be led onto.

"Can we go out later again? I was thinking of flying Kieran on my broom a bit, I wouldn't go too high up," he piped up. Normally, it'd be no problem, but recently everything has been tense with the whole Sirius Black incident. Surprisingly, this went down easier than either of us had expected.

"Sure, I don't see why not," Dad said, while Sean nodded in affirmation. And then, just as I thought the danger was over, Dad said it – the one topic I hoped would not be mentioned at the dinner table at all. "Say, Rye, you never did say much about this year's Quidditch Cup."

Wood noticeably tensed up while I struggled to think of good ways to keep the conversation as vague as possible. But this was my family – with the Woods! There was no way any conversation about quidditch would go down "vaguely."

"Erm, yeah, it was a good season," I choked.

"A good season? You won the bloody cup! It's been years since Gryffindor has won the cup!" Sean interjected.

My only comfort now was that as awkward as this was for me, it was about one hundred times worse for Wood. He shifted uneasily in his chair and I was hoping, silently praying that he would jump into the conversation with a good excuse or topic-changer to save us both the embarrassment.

"What do you mean, 'won the cup'?" both my parents shouted in unison. Even Kieran had that look about him as if he was proud of me when he heard that we finally won the cup.

"Yeah, uh, Gryffindor won the Cup," I whispered, dipping my spoon in and out of the soup.

"Why didn't you say anything? Were you brilliant? I bet you played brilliantly," Dad cheered. "Oliver, did she play well?"

Wood's "deer in the headlights" look was priceless. If I wasn't too busy trying to figure out how to escape this horrible situation, I would have been laughing more genuinely than I ever had in my entire life.

He just looked so pathetic that even I decided to be the one to man up.

"I wasn't on the team," I whispered. The news was greeted with gasps around the whole table.

"What do you mean you weren't on the team?" Mum said sternly. "You loved being on the team! Why the hell wouldn't you be on the team?"

All the adults and Kieran nodded in agreement.

"I just felt I needed to focus on my schoolwork a bit more, I suppose," I replied in the most confident voice I could muster up. The "I suppose" probably didn't really capture the air of confidence I was going for, but I was hoping it'd be overlooked due to shock.

It wasn't. My entire bullshit lie fell through immediately.

"You'd never give up quidditch, dear!" Morgan stated matter-of-factly. "What really happened?"

All this time, Wood looked as if he was about to kill himself. I decided this called for my best lie to date. I really had to do my best with my acting skills, pulling off the greatest acting the wizarding world has ever (not) seen.

"Fine," I huffed in exasperation. "This guy from Slytherin was taunting me and I just got sick of hearing about it all the time, so I quit the team."

"You didn't fight him?" Dad asked.

"C'mon Dad, he's a Slytherin; they always hunt in packs. I just got sick of it and decided to quit. Woo—Oliver tried to stop me from quitting, but you know I'm rather stubborn. It all just got too much and I stopped even enjoying the game."

"Who is that boy? Should we call his parents?"

"Mum, I'm 16 – almost 17," I whined. "I haven't been solving arguments using parents in a decade. Can we just drop this?"

"Fine," Dad replied after eyeing me carefully. "I just think it's a bloody shame! And on the year you got the Cup!"

You can always count on your own parents to make you feel even worse than you do.


	16. Chapter 16: The Tree

The Tree

Wood and I had survived the dinner party. All in all, I would like to think that it was one of the more successful Wood/Harlow dinner parties – they're usually not this eventful. Wood, Kieran and I trailed back off outside while our parents transferred to the sofas by the fireplace to chat. Changes at the Ministry and the impending World Cup were of particular interest to them these days.

Wood and Kieran were going to fly, or rather hover, above the ground for a bit, but I always enjoyed climbing the top of the tree at the very heart of the forest out behind the house. It was where Wood and I used to go when we could still stand being in one another's presence and unless he had told someone about it, I'm pretty confident that nobody else can find it.

Years ago, right before Wood started his first year at Hogwarts we carved little _x_'s at eye level on the trees to guide us even though we both knew the way by heart. As we grew, the trees grew with us. The clearly carved _x_'s were still at eye level for me, but Wood had outgrown the trees and me long ago.

I climbed the tree slower than usual. It's been a while since I've been up there, but I still remembered where to place my foot with an eerie precision which I only ever exhibited while playing quidditch. Otherwise, I was awfully clumsy.

The tree was taller than the other ones around, giving a clear view of the surroundings. As I got to the top, to my left I could see the Wood's house and the light in the garden and windows. I had always been particularly fond of the tree; somehow, on top of the tree, the sky always seemed clearer and larger than anywhere else in the world.

As I lay on the branch, staring upwards, I couldn't help but wonder just how much of my performance my parents bought and how much they didn't. I could be a good liar, but only when I had a heads up warning that I needed to lie. Lying to friends or family was such a scarce occurrence that I always needed a heads up when having to do so.

I still hadn't told my parents about my "gift." I was going to, but then I decided against it because telling Mum anything meant that all her closest friends would know as well. Morgan, being the closest, would definitely know and would almost certainly tell Wood about it. In turn, he'd know what happened that day on the pitch, and I'm certain he'd find other ways of using the information to torture me.

Now that I think about it, though, I probably should tell them. But there really isn't any decent way to break it to them, is there? I mean, you can't exactly say, "Mum, Dad, I can bring back someone from the dead." There simply isn't too much that you can say to make it easier. I hadn't used my gift at all since the day at the pitch; I figured I'd need to be cautious about who finds out as well as when to use it. The twins kept coming back with scrapes and bruises simply to see me heal them, but I would always refuse, leaving them pouting like kids.

They actually sent me a letter yesterday, the twins I mean, but I didn't any time to reply to it. I hadn't seen them since the school year had ended, but we promised to see meet up during the World Cup. They told me how they had recently pranked Ron; the poor boy had to go around with purple skin for the rest of the day. They said he was the "shade I had turned when I first saw Wood after shagging him." The joke was only somewhat appreciated, even if it did give me a good laugh.

I still haven't really wrapped my head around the fact that I slept with Wood. The fact that I had no recollection of what had happened made pretending it didn't happen much easier. Avoiding Wood at all costs further aided my denial. It wasn't just pretending it didn't happen though; sleeping with someone, even if you don't remember it happening, makes you much more self-conscious around others. Actually, not remembering is worse because it makes you think of all the possible stupid things you could have said or done and you end up consumed by the thoughts. I'm pretty sure that I had thoroughly analyzed all the worst things I could have said to Wood or done with him in more detail than anyone has ever analyzed sex before. I sought solace in the fact that if any of those things had happened, Wood would have almost certainly rubbed them in and teased me about them. Letting it slide would have been exhibiting a level of humanity which I'm sure that Oliver Wood does not possess.

"Hey," a voice said from beneath, startling me and snapping me out of my daze. It goes without saying that it was _him_. I tightened my grasp on the branch as I shortly lost my grip and balance.

"Careful there," he said. "If you fell out of the tree and died here, everyone would certainly think I had killed you."

I snorted, but said nothing as I hoped he would just leave.

"I don't think you'll be leaving anytime soon. They're quite tipsy and your parents are arguing over quidditch again. They said that we should go in and get cake."

"I don't feel like cake," I said with no particular emotion in my voice, hoping it would make him leave. My methods always proved futile as I always underestimated just how annoying he really is.

Instead of leaving, he started making his way up the tree, copying my steps perfectly. It took him less time to climb up because he was taller and had probably been up here recently.

"Kieran and I flew around a bit. He seems like he'll be good at flying, but then again he really has nobody to be shite from," he said while perching himself up on the same branch I was on.

I nodded and continued staring at the star-filled sky. A few minutes passed by in silence with Wood shifting uneasily and glancing around as if trying to find words to say something.

"Look, I just wanted to say, to say," he started, but paused. "I just wanted to say thank you for not saying why you really weren't on the team."

"No problem," I replied. Once again, I did my best to lack any emotion in my voice.

"Are you going to talk to me at all? I mean, I know we agreed to ignore each other, but you wouldn't say 'no problem.' What kind of ridiculous answer is that anyway? You'd tell me you didn't do it for me anyway!" It was actually somewhat amusing to see Wood agitated by something so meaningless.

"Aww, Wood. Do you miss me?" I teased.

"I don't miss _you_, but I actually sort of miss making fun of you," he answered truthfully.

I straightened up immediately and reversed back to indifference. "Sorry to take all the fun away from you. I just figured winning the cup without me on the team was enough to make you jump with joy that you didn't need extra humiliation on my part to enjoy yourself thoroughly."

"I didn't mean it like that, Riley," he defended. His voice was notably softer.

"It's okay, I wasn't offended," I replied. "I just really couldn't give a damn anymore. You've graduated, so I don't have to worry about you. I just need to somehow deal with all the people discussing our … liaison."

"Sorry about that. I guess you got the worse end of the deal on that one," he noted. He wasn't kidding; he wasn't being ranked right below that knocked up 5th year. I figured the pity and lame excuse for sympathy which Wood was offering weren't really helpful in the matter. It had happened and there really wasn't any way to change it anymore.

"Oliver Wood thanking me _and _apologizing to me in a 5 minute span? Am I going mad or is this really happening?" I mocked.

Wood was obviously in just as shite a mood as I was; only his didn't manifest itself in lethargy and mockery. His manifested in him being his usual obnoxious dick self. His brows furrowed immediately and he didn't spare a moment to wonder whether he should or shouldn't lash out at me.

"I came over to thank you and you just have to be a bitch and always argue," he muttered while getting down the tree. "Just come get the bloody cake and forget it. I'm glad I had you off the team."

His anger was actually laughable. I mean, imagine; Oliver Wood telling me that _I'm _the bitch. As he stomped off I couldn't help but throw some twigs at him, and even though I did my best to contain my laughter, it just sort of burst in the worst moment. I started laughing hysterically which only angered Wood more.

It wasn't even all that funny. Hell, it wasn't funny at all, but I just kept laughing and my laughs bounced off every tree in that forest and the entire neighbourhood echoed with the sound of uncontrollable glee. After several gasps of air and a minute of laughter, tears rolled down my now red cheeks. And then, when I was sure that Wood was out of the forest and far away from the tree, the laughter died down and only the tears continued streaming down my face.

Laughing was always a better alternative to crying.

* * *

**If you have a few minutes to spare, please review. It would mean a lot to me. (:**

**Also, I did my best to review, but it's 3.20AM and I'm dead tired, so I apologize for any mistakes.**


	17. Chapter 17: Now or Never

A/N:

Well, first of all I figure apologies are in order on my part for not updating for so long! I'm so sorry, I had uni and some personal issues I had to deal with, but now I'm back and if my uni schedule allows it, I will be posting on a regular basis. Secondly, I tried to make this chapter as eventful as possible since I owed it to you, but it's also an unbelievably awkward chapter. I figure it was a better way to take it than making it sappy since that would have been so unlike Wood and Riley. Anyhoo, enjoy! R&R as always!

-Mouse

xx

Now or Never

I sat there, perched on the tree branch where I had seemingly spent a good portion of my childhood. Wood and I used to sit there as kids all the time; we'd discuss how we would become famous quidditch players. He would be the keeper at the World Cup finals, he'd say, and we'd be 150 points up. The opponents, he claimed it would be the Bulgarians, would be awarded a penalty shot just as their seeker had the snitch in his reach. A penalty at that point would be a win for the Bulgarians, but Wood would be making double eight loops at the fastest possible speed he could and with the end of his broom, he'd defend the penalty. It would be the pinnacle of his career.

I, on the other hand, would sit there besotted with him, soaking up his words and visualizing the entire match exactly as he described it. After he'd finish with his story, I'd start detailing my future; my career as a chaser for Puddlemere, the country house I'd own, the three kids I'd have, the whole deal.

Truth be told, he was always mostly interested in the part about Puddlemere. Wood's fixation with Quidditch was always much deeper than mine. It was all he'd ever think about, and it was pretty much all he ever cared about as well. When we weren't sitting on the highest tree branch in the forest, we were practicing our flying. When we hit puberty; other guys were chasing skirts, but Oliver was chasing brooms. Everything he did was merely to benefit his quidditch ambitions. The only time he'd ever let himself enjoy female company was while relaxing from quidditch, but the relationships were fleeting. In the long run, a girlfriend would simply hinder his blind ambition.

There were two girls, I s'pose, which warrant some credit; Sarah O'Riordan, his first kiss and crush, and Emily Finch, his first shag. Sarah was my best female friend at the time, naturally. I feel as if I've had such shit luck during my entire life that I have become predictable as a result. Friendzoned since the ripe age of 9? Naturally. In love with my best friend? Of course. Him liking my other best friend? Only seems like the next logical step in my otherwise shite existence. As you've noticed, ending up enemies with him and having him kick me off the quidditch team isn't even the worst of it. Sleeping with him might have been, though.

I started my descent. Climbing down trees is always more difficult than climbing up them; one wrong step and you'd go tumbling down. It was night. The x's were no longer visible, but I knew which way would take me back to the Woods.

Turn left at the crooked tree, and then continue straight until you end up in the garden. Navigating straight is always the most difficult, but the distance from the tree to his house was insufficient to make me lose myself amidst the green and brown of the forest. It was a routine I had perfected in my childhood. But then I always had Oliver with me. As a child you're always blissfully unaware of the dangers lurking around corners, but as an adult even a walk through familiar woods becomes a sinister task. You hear the leaves rustling in the wind and immediately your mind jumps to images of a shadow following you; a twig you had stepped on snaps under your weight and your heart skips a beat. Then you start thinking; thinking about anything, just allowing your mind to race to avert your thoughts from the apparent dangers surrounding you.

Suddenly, you're out of the woods, and feeling safer, comforted by the light coming from the house, but you're still within reach of the imaginary monsters. So you make a run for it to the house, but attempt to look casual in case someone sees. It's a difficult task.

And then you're finally safe.

"Rye, Oliver is upstairs in his room," a voice yells, nudging me to go upstairs. I look over in the direction of the voice and see my mother with Kieran sleeping on her lap, and her stroking his hair. The other adults are all sitting and chatting around the fireplace.

I take my time up the stairs, dragging my feet along. Two quick knocks, followed by a delayed one. He knows it's me. We've been through this many times before. He's on his bed, while the desk chair awaits me.

"Come in," he says, but more out of habit than anything since I'm already halfway through the door. He didn't look at me when I came in, but then again, he never does. Not much to see anyway. Or much he hasn't seen, now that we've slept together.

There it was, once again creeping up in my mind. As soon as I was able to forget about what can be easily classified as my biggest failure to date, it managed to find a way back into my mind. Actually, that's sort of a lie since it was _always _on my mind – how could I have been so stupid, or drunk to that extent to have slept with _him_?

He must have noticed my mental struggle since he finally looked up from the magazine he's been reading. "Anything wrong, Harlow?"

It tugged me out of my daze. "What? Oh, no," I said absently.

"Alright," he said unconvinced, but he didn't want to push the matter further. _I _wanted him to push the matter further, though; to get this out of the way once and for all. It was now or never, really. I've had numerous opportunities to probe him about this, but never the balls. "Okay, something _is _wrong," I blurted out, but regretted it the same moment. I couldn't take it back now. It'd be great if there was a spell which could take back words you've said, erase them from someone's mind, but there wasn't. Now or never.

"Mhmm?" he said absentmindedly whilst reading the magazine.

"Wood, just fucking look at me, okay?"

This caught his attention. All I needed now was to calm down, take a deep breath and begin. Unfortunately, my well-thought out monologue came out sounding more like an erratic rant.

"Well, as you know, we slept together. It's not something I'm proud of, obviously. Anyway, er, I just feel as if we should fucking mention it from time to time since it's always sort of lingering, but I just want to forget it ever happened and I want it out of the way, and yeah…"

That was the best I could come up with. Fuck me. I've been thinking about what I should tell him for weeks, and yet all I could muster up when the time comes is this incoherent rambling mess. My only consolation now is that Wood won't react like a complete dick, but knowing Wood that is highly unlikely.

"Well, Harlow, I didn't think a shag preoccupies so much of your time," he smirked. "I'm just that good."

See, what did I say? But I figure I cannot sound any worse or any more desperate than I do currently, and I shouldn't back down before a proper conversation. Or at least as proper a conversation as Wood and I could have.

"Wood, I'm serious," I grunted. He actually straightened up; it was a miracle. And now that he did, once again I found myself not knowing where to begin my monologue.

"Well," he nudged. "Spit it out. You say you want to talk and then don't say anything… it's not much to go on."

"I know, I know! I just… I don't remember anything," I said. Cue the longest and most awkward silence ever. Wood on the bed, magazine in his lap, and me on the chair with my hands crossed and resting on my stomach – both of us were staring in opposite directions attempting to avoid eye contact. I half hoped that my parents would call for me, so that I can bolt out and go home and hopefully never have to relive that silence again, but no such luck.

"Yeah, you told me," he said, but his words sounded so strained. At least he broke the silence. I would have accepted anything by now, as long as it broke the silence. It wasn't even the silence; it was just my stupidity of bringing the topic up, and the silence was uncomfortable since I knew he was thinking about it.

"It wasn't bad, if that's what you were wondering," he blurted out. Actually, it was what I was wondering; only it was too damn uncomfortable to ask him that. Now that he's asked it, our awkward silence turned into an awkward, strained conversation – I'm still making my mind up about which one's worse.

"Thanks, I suppose?" was all I replied. The conversation is definitely worse. At least during silences I can't say stupid shit like this.

"Saying, 'you're welcome' would just be boasting, wouldn't it?" he grinned.

"Not what I said 'thanks' for, but you've never had a problem with boasting, did you Wood?" I retorted.

"Why be modest when I'm so good that you so obviously want to repeat the sex you can't even remember with me?" At least the atmosphere of the horrible-so-far conversation was getting lighter and slightly easier to bear.

"Yeah, it was so great that my mind just automatically repressed it from my memory," I rolled my eyes. He laughed lightheartedly and scooted over on the bed.

"… Well, come over, just ask me what it is you want," he said and noticed my hesitation. "You slept with me, sitting next to me shouldn't be that much of an issue."

I shuffled over to his bed and lay there. He was sitting towards the wall, staring down at me.

"Well?" he said impatiently while towering over me.

"Well, I don't know! It's just all so messed up and I wished it never happened," I said looking up at him.

"Yeah, you've made a point of mentioning that once or twice," he snorted. "Just ask me what it is you wanted and we can forget it ever happened, okay?"

"I don't know."

"You say you want to talk and then you don't know what about. Great people skills you've got, Harlow."

A few more minutes passed by in silence. He was staring at me from above; I was lying on my bed and staring up at him.

"Fine, want me to ask something?" he said, prompting a conversation.

"Sure," I replied.

"Would you rather you don't remember or would you have liked to remember?"

"I dunno, I'd rather I find out what happened without it being something too awful," I said hesitantly. I thought about what he had asked me, only I didn't expect him to care too much about it.

"It wasn't awful," he chuckled.

"I didn't mean it like that. I mean, I just hope I didn't do or say anything embarrassing," I whispered. I was blushing, I could feel it. It was just too personal a thing to discuss, and with _Oliver Wood _of all people, to not be blushing. I just hoped he couldn't tell in the dimmed room.

The way his facial expression became stern all of a sudden told me otherwise, though.

"You did swear at me a few times and told me you hated me," he laughed, but you could tell he was only trying to lighten the mood. He was desperately trying to get it back to the playful banter from a few minutes ago.

"That's not really any different to our usual then, is it?"

He sighed. "No, not really. And you didn't really do or say anything embarrassing."

"Well, what did I say?"

"Is this really necessary?"

"I don't know! I sort of don't want to know and do at the same time. I actually just want to know as long as it's really not embarrassing, but knowing myself it probably is going to be embarrassing since I hardly ever do or say anything that isn't – especially in moments like that," I was beginning to rant again. It wasn't by choice, it just got the better of me. "And it wasn't supposed to happen, I know you say I say that way too much, but it's true; it really wasn't. I didn't want it to happen, and I was drunk and wasn't thinking, and why didn't you stop me, or why didn't I stop myself and what the hell were we think—"

I didn't get the chance to finish the sentence as Wood had scooped my limp body up in a moment somehow and forced his lips on mine.


	18. Chapter 18: The Card up his Sleeve

A/N: 

Alrighty, well, this chapter is a tad shorter, but I didn't want to leave you at the mini cliffhanger and it's a rather important chapter. It's my way of saying sorry a million times over for not updating in a while. Enjoy, r&r as always.

-Mouse

xx

The Card up his Sleeve

I had fallen into this trap before, in the passageway at Hogwarts, and no way would I allow myself to fall for it again.

I pushed him back as fast – and as hard – as I could; I think that even he was surprised of my reaction.

"What the fuck, Wood? I wasn't even screaming, so no reason for you to try and shut me up again like that time in the passageway!"

"Who says I was trying to shut you up?" He tried to make it sound playful, but it didn't come out sounding that way. It came out as a contrived cover-up for the otherwise hurtful tone the sentence would have had.

Another fine mess he's got us in.

"Oh no, you are not allowed to do that!" I yelled. "We hate each other, remember? _You _hate _me._ The fact that we slept together does not change anything – if anything, it makes me hate you even more. You remember everything, you were sober enough to get it up, ergo you should have stopped it, but you didn't, so now I don't even remember losing my virginity! … The only good part about not remembering is that it was to you! So, I hate you and I don't know what the fuck you are trying to do since you hate me even more, but it's not going to work."

I was shaking with anger, but Wood managed to remain cool. He always seemed so calm and collected as opposed to the hormonal mess that I seemed to be.

"How could I have known that you were that drunk? You were speaking normally – you weren't slurring your words or anything and you could walk!"

"Keep your voice down – they'll hear us," I hissed. "I don't want anyone else finding out about this, especially not my parents. The fact that I was willing to sleep with_ you _didn't ring any bells? Would I have ever done that without the presence of a lot of alcohol?"

"Fine, I'll keep my voice down," he obliged, but I think he was just looking to change the subject, but there was no changing the subject now. "And stop blaming all this shit on me. It was just as much your fault. In fact, it was _more _your fault than mine!"

"It was not my fault, Wood!"

I opened my mouth to continue my yelling, but he beat me to it.

"Fine, it was all my fault. Can we just go back to ignoring each other? I can't concentrate on my magazine," he said while waving the magazine in the air to signal that he suddenly _really _wants to read it. It was perhaps the tensest silence you'd have ever experienced, but it was a welcome change to the awkwardness of before. Unfortunately, Wood didn't appear to agree since he interjected the silence with a question. "Can I ask you something?"

"Depends on what it is."

"Angie told me that when I fell, it didn't happen exactly like I thought."

"Yeah, not gonna talk about that. You fell and for a second I thought that killing you wouldn't solve all my problems, but as soon as you opened your eyes I regretted thinking that," I quickly said. My lie wasn't convincing and even a child would have been able to see right through it.

"Just tell me what happened," he whined.

"No, just stop," I threatened. "What the hell is wrong with you? You hated me and now all of a sudden you're snogging me. Just tell me what the hell you're trying to do here, Wood, 'cause I find it hard to believe that all of a sudden you don't mind my presence."

"What if I just woke up one day not hating you?" he suggested playing dumb. He quickly changed his demeanor though, not allowing me to react in any way. "It's much more entertaining when you're confused like this."

Some people never change. Some people like Wood. "Oh, so you snogged me 'cause it was entertaining?"

He shrugged, neither denying nor confirming my question. If he knew one thing, it was how to frustrate me. "I'm sorry I brought up the topic I did, I should have known you would be a complete dick about it."

"A dick? At least I attempted conversation!"

"Fuck off, Wood. I don't know why, for one moment, I thought you'd act like a decent human being. I should have figured that wasn't going to happen; I mean, you did practically take advantage of me whilst I was really smashed," I screamed. I no longer cared who heard and who didn't.

Spending four hours with Wood is four hours too many. I got up and bolted towards the door, only to be pulled back by a pair of arms holding me still in my place.

Wood had his arms wrapped around me from behind as we were standing in front of the bedroom door. I could feel his breath on my neck and ear as he edged towards me and I stood still, afraid to move.

"That night, you told me that, before we started hating each other you loved me," he whispered, so that nobody heard.

It was my worst nightmare, definitely. If you ever wondered whether I could fuck up more than I had when I slept with him, you got your answer. My face went pale as he loosened his grip around me. He didn't need confirmation or denial – it was enough for him that I knew that he knew. He knew it'd torment both me and my pride.

I wouldn't have even known what to say if he had expected a reply. I tried to stay cool, I really did, and I tried to walk out the door looking nonchalant, as if nothing could shake me – but the run I made for the door looked anything but nonchalant. I ran down the stairs, stopping at the bottom to try and compose myself for my parents, but I knew it'd take my acting prowess to do so. I didn't have any acting skills, just so you know; I was just a good liar at times. Well, good enough to fool my parents at least.

"Everything alright, Love?" Morgan, Wood's mum, asked.

"Yeah, I just have a bit of a headache, so I'm going to head back home if that's alright?"

"It's fine by us," Mum interjected. "We won't be long, sweetie. Go to bed and I'll come check up on you later."

They were too immersed in their conversation to care whether or not my relaxed tone was faked or not.

As soon as I was out the door, I started running. I just wanted to get away from there as fast as possible. The day was too long. Too many things had happened between Wood and me; first the dinner, then the argument by the tree, then the attempt at conversation, followed by the kiss and finally the cherry on top, Wood's card up his sleeve – my drunken confession to him. It was a stupid, stupid thing to do. I was exhausted, and I just wanted to forget. I was tired of arguing with him all the time.

I started that conversation thinking it'd help me forget, but instead it just ended up worse. I had told Wood my secret. He was never to have known about that. Now he had an advantage over me. All of the pieces of the puzzle must have added up for him while I was still in the dark. I didn't know why he hated me, I didn't know why now all of a sudden he apparently doesn't, why he was trying to snog me, and I didn't know what happened that night other than that I slept with him.

I arrived home short of breath and erratic. I wished there was some way to take it all back. As I put my PJs on and went to bed, I thought about Wood kissing me. The night was so chaotic that the kiss was the least dramatic thing that had happened. I couldn't even dwell on it before Wood was making my life even worse.

It was so strange, the kiss I mean. Why would he have even attempted to kiss me? And what he said afterwards was even stranger. It seemed that everything Wood ever did was to annoy me.


	19. Chapter 19: Tired of Everything

Tired of Everything

You know how everyone says that everything will be better in the morning? Well, it's not.

In fact, nine mornings have passed since then and it's not even the slightest bit better.

I've been dodging everyone like a killing curse and when I say everyone I really do mean _everyone._ Dad and Kieran didn't really give a damn, but Mum was always nosy as was Morgan, Wood's mum. Thankfully, Wood himself didn't try and make an appearance, but he didn't really care. He probably thought that I was sulking in my bedroom, hiding from the world…. which in truth _was _what I was doing.

I knew I couldn't keep it up forever, especially considering that the Cup was on soon. I didn't even want to think about the fact that I _had _to be around Wood for 2 weeks. It was very unlike me to sit around and mope, but I felt that there was nothing else to do. I wrote Fred and George about the predicament I had found myself in, but they had yet to reply. I figured they had more important things to do or they were taking their time reading over the letter and laughing at me. It seemed like something Fred and George would do even though they were great friends in the long run.

It was a nice day outside and so moping outside as opposed to moping inside seemed like a good decision. I hastily put on some clothes, grabbed my broom and leapt down the stairs. Walking down would mean Mum could start questioning me, but running down meant an "I'm out to fly for a bit, gonna be back for dinner" was sufficient and didn't allow time for quizzing.

As soon as I was out of the door, I jumped onto the broom and kicked off the ground. Being in the air was nice, especially on a clear day such as this. Making loops around the house and in the backyard soothed me and helped me clear my mind. Merlin knows I was desperate for some mind-clearing lately what with everything that's happened.

It was just as I had begun my mind-clearing process that the little blob in the distance, over towards Wood's house, had started getting larger. It was clear to me what was going on; Wood was flying and probably towards me. I flew further, flying over the woods, trying to fly lower in an attempt to camouflage myself amongst the tall trees, but to no avail. Wood was gaining on me fast.

We carried on this chase for a while longer and even though I couldn't see him I could feel his frustration. He knew he'd catch up with me eventually – I knew it as well – so he didn't understand why I was trying to outfly him. I just wanted to put off whatever was coming for as long as I could.

"You know I'll catch up to you eventually, just stop for a bit," he yelled when he was finally close. I absently shook my head, unaware whether or not he actually saw it. As soon as he was within arms, he grabbed me. "Riley, just slow down for a second!" he screamed.

I attempted to speed up even more, but he pulled me back making me lose grip of my broom. He in turn lost grip of his and we both went tumbling down with the trees below breaking the fall ever so slightly. We landed at the bottom with a loud thud. Somehow, I had ended up on top of Wood who still had his arm around me and was finding it difficult to breath. The fall had winded him and he was gasping for air. I seemed to be the luckier one of the two in that I only had several bruises, cuts and a sore hip and thigh.

He couldn't move and was rolling around attempting to find a better position in which he could get air, but his efforts were hindered by the pain he was feeling throughout his body. I'll admit I panicked even though every time I end up saving Wood he pays me back by making my life even harder.

"Lie on your back," I whispered while placing my hand under his head. My second free hand flew to his chest instinctively and soon that feeling of the life being sucked out of me was back. Everything around me began to fade before the darkness engulfed me.

"Rye," someone whispered. "Rye, Riley wake up!"

I adjusted my eyes to focus on the person standing above me.

"How long was I out for?" I asked groggily.

"Oh thank Merlin! It wasn't too long, a couple of minutes or so," Wood replied and sighed in relief. He helped me up on my feet by wrapping my arms around his shoulders and holding me up by my hips. "Can you stand on your own?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, I just feel a bit tired," I replied. I didn't feel like lingering and having to explain myself. Once again, my poor judgment got me into even more of a mess than I was in. "Accio broomstick" I yelled and held out my arm waiting for it.

I saddled the broomstick and was just about to kick off when Wood stopped me. "Wait, Riley, you're not strong enough to fly on your own."

"I'm fine, Wood," I said sternly.

"No, you're not! What was that about? Why did you pass out and how am I miraculously better?" he yelled. It was strange to see Wood this way. He was angry a lot of times, but this time it seemed as though he was yelling out of a genuine concern for my well-being. I figured I couldn't bullshit my way out of this any longer.

"It's this thing I can do. I can heal people simply by touching them, but it sort of drains me," I said all the while staring at the ground. "But if you tell anyone, I swear I will kill you!"

Wood stood around and looked at the ground, seemingly deep in thought before finally piping up. "Is that what happened on the pitch that day as well?"

I nodded. If I was coming clean, I might as well make him feel bad for giving me so much shit for it when I was just helping him. He seemed to have acquired a conscience since then, so maybe, just maybe it will make him feel remorseful. "That's when I found out about it."

"Oh… so who else knows?"

"Fred, George, and McGonagall."

"What about your parents?"

"No. I thought about it, then I realized there was no way that wouldn't sound ridiculous, even for the wizarding world," I started. "Well, that, and ironically I didn't want you to find out. Telling Mum meant that your parents knew which meant that you knew."

"Why wouldn't you want me to find out?" I thought I had left home hastily so that I didn't have to face this exact inquest from my mother, but no such luck.

"Because you're an asshole, and I didn't want you to know that I helped you," I said honestly before looking up at him. The way I saw it was that the cat was out of the bag. Even if Wood's and my playful banter and hatred for one another were once funny, now they were simply exhausting. I had grown tired of the constant bickering and the insults. We weren't children anymore and yet we were still acting like we were. I figured that if he knew so much already, one secret more or less would make no difference. If anything, it'd make him leave me alone and ignore me finally. It's all I really asked for; to be left alone.

"Well, I feel worse now that I know that I insulted you for no reason," he said. "If that's of any consolation to you."

"It's not," I sighed. "Unfortunately, I haven't been taking any pleasure in your misfortune in a while."

He gave out this sort of light laugh as if to agree with me.

"It doesn't mean I still don't hate you, though! So, what was this attempted homicide/suicide for? What did you want to talk to me about? I asked, ready to get all of this out of the way once and for all.

"I've changed my mind now, don't feel like talking about it," he said defensively.

"Wood, stop acting like a fucking girl and tell me what you wanted to talk about."

"I wanted to take the piss. Figured ten days was enough for you to think of good comebacks regarding for what I told you before you left," he started.

"Well, go ahead," I interjected. "I'm not promising any good comebacks, though."

"Nah," he continued. "It would seem that you aren't who I thought were after all."

"Oh?" I wondered, "And who did you think I was?"

Wood took a few moments to think about his words, but apparently could think of nothing better than, "it really makes no difference now." He seemed unwilling to make conversation and I just couldn't think of anything to possibly talk about. Wood and I somehow always functioned between two alternatives; uncomfortable silences or screaming at one another. Moments where we spoke normally were few and far between. "Is it true though? That you liked me before?"

Nine days ago I would have dreaded this question and would have fervently denied everything. Nine days ago I would have simply been drunk and talking bullshit. Nine days ago Wood would have been making all of this up, knowing it would get a rise out of me. But today, I figured I might as well just go with it. If he knows I could heal people, if he has slept with me, he might as well know that once I thought him decent enough to occupy my thoughts in a more positive manner. And besides, it's not as if I _still _have feelings for him.

"Yeah, it's true," I whispered. "But that was before."

"You're not even going to deny it? C'mon Harlow, where's the feisty spirit?" Wood looked genuinely shocked. I don't know whether he was expecting me to deny it or whether he really didn't believe it to be true, but like Wood always did, he masked his true feelings well.

"I did fancy you up until the point where you started being an arse," I explained.

Wood looked dumbfounded. He probably wasn't counting on such a level of honesty from me. Heck, I wasn't counting on myself being so truthful and I would probably learn to regret it much like everything in my life. I must have bumped my head hard during the fall or during my blackout. "Does that mean that you would still fancy me, had we simply stayed friends and me not been an arse?" he blurted out.

It was an unexpected question. Any question which involves any feeling except annoyance and hatred to answer was unexpected from Wood. But, in the past few weeks if anything, Oliver Wood has managed to surprise me. Annoy me, frustrate me, cause me to hate him even more, make me cry, and so on? Yes. But he has also managed to surprise me with these confusing random bouts of human emotion. I have yet to figure out whether I enjoyed them or not.

"But you were an arse and we're not friends anymore," I whispered. It was a hypothetical situation I simply had a difficult time imagining. I mounted the broomstick once again ready to go home.

"Hold up! I'm coming with you," he said. He made it seem as though this entire conversation just didn't take place. Wood had a knack for that; he could compartmentalize everything, but mostly his feelings, with such skill that even the most cold-hearted person would be jealous. "I'm not going to let you fly on your own after you fell out of a tree and lost consciousness."

There was no point in arguing. Wood always got his way when he set his mind to it, even though I did my best to correct that over the years by spiting him at every chance possible.

"Here, hold my broom," he instructed. I took the broom and scooted over on the broom. "We'll fly low just to be on the safe side as soon as we fly over the trees."

I nodded as he straddled the broom behind me. Wood wrapped his arms around me to ensure that I don't fall over and that he can steer. It was unnecessary considering that I might as well have lived on a broom, but there was no arguing with him.

We flew low, and much slower than either of us would usually. It was a nice day outside, a rare occurrence in Scotland, making the ride enjoyable. I was still feeling a bit exhausted and wasn't sure I would have even been able to fly myself back. It was the only reason I wasn't arguing with Wood's goodwill currently, but I wasn't planning on telling him that either.

Wood's landing was about as gentle as a broom landing can be. When you've got two people balancing on a broom it has to be otherwise one would most definitely go tumbling; in this case it'd probably be me. Mother was looking over from the window, and I could make out her surprised facial expression even through the tinted glass. It probably did look odd – Oliver Wood and Riley Harlow on a single broomstick. There was no telling that Morgan would find out about this the same minute.

"There you go," Wood said. "Give me my broom and I'll be off now. See you around sometime soon? We're leaving for the Cup soon anyway."

"Yeah, yeah," I said absently. "See you soon. And remember you can't tell a soul about _the thing_!"

He kicked off the ground, and flew high towards the sun before he steered left towards his house. The only thing stranger than Wood and I being on the same broom is Wood has to be Wood and I saying goodbye to each other. "See you soon" was not something Wood and I ever said to each other.

The trouble I always had with Wood is that whenever we set out to talk, to solve everything once and for all, we never did. We'd just set up a million new questions, but would never solve even one of them. Just like now.

I walked inside the house, mother waiting by the kitchen door for me, ready to bombard me with numerous questions.

"Dinner is in 45 minutes, sweetie," she said. "Did you have a nice time out flying?"

Her smirk was more than evident. She wasn't even attempting to hide it.

"Yeah, it was alright," I said. I tried to feign disinterest to get her to stop.

"I saw that Oliver and you flew over together here," she hinted. She wasn't even hinting to be honest; she just went flat out for it. She might as well have asked me whether we were shagging.

"Oh, I was feeling a bit ill and he didn't want me to fly back on my own," I replied.

I wasn't sure whether she bought it or not. Morgan would most definitely be hearing about this, and the two of them would add this to their endless list of hypothetical situations of 'What _did _happen between Oliver and Riley?' It'd be nice if I could catch a glimpse of that list inside their head. Perhaps it'd help _me _clear up what happened between the two of us since apparently only Wood knew. I was just as in the dark about this all as they were.


	20. Chapter 20: The Cup Begins

A/N:

Hello everyone, this is a short filler-ish sort of chapter, but the two big chapters will be up soon! ((:

The Cup Begins

"Rye, Rye, Rye," someone was yelling. "Wake up! Mum made breakfast!"

It was day at of the cup, and the matches didn't begin until tomorrow, so we had time to spare. We would always get there a day or two earlier before everyone started coming in.

Kieran had decided to wake me up by jumping on me and screaming. It was a good strategy since there was no way you could go back to sleep after it. He was especially excited about this cup. It was the second one he had attended, but the first time around he was only 7, so it hardly counts.

I got up out of bed and headed to the bathroom. I proceeded with my holiday daily routine. It was the same as my Hogwarts daily routine, only with the addition of a bit of makeup. It was barely noticeable, just a hint of brown eyeliner, but it was enough for me to stab my eye with every morning. Nobody ever thinks of practical things in the wizarding world… such as a spell which allows you to have picture perfect makeup without any eye-stabbing and yet you could conjure up a flock of birds from your wand. I wonder what good that's ever done anyone.

"Morning, love," dad greeted as I got out of the bathroom.

"Morning, Dad," I said, still groggy and only half-awake. I sat by Kieran who proceeded to fling some bits of egg at me and grin. I fought back, but more subtly, so that Dad doesn't notice.

"Kids, stop the food fight right now," he said without looking up from his newspaper. Kieran huffed, but accepted defeat. "That means you as well, Riley. You're turning 17 in a few days, try act your age sometimes."

It was Kieran's turn to look at me, proud and victorious.

"So, Rye, when are the Weasleys getting here?" Dad asked.

"Oh, they're just here for the finals, so we won't be seeing them until the very end," I answered.

"Anyone else who is here for the entire thing?"

"Not really," I went on while sipping my tea.

"Oh well, you do have Oliver here," he muttered.

I don't think dad was unaware of the situation as much as he simply did not care. To him, Wood and I were in the middle of a childish dispute. He did not take it for the war it truly was. And to mum's disapproval, our current ability to stand each other was far from a truce, it was simply the moment during a war in which two battling sides decide to rest and allow the others to bury the dead. It was only a matter of time before we had finished the burying and were back to the fighting.

I hadn't actually seen Wood since the day when he had almost killed the both of us, but it was better that way. It was peaceful and a nice change to the hectic ten days from the dinner onwards. I sort of regretted being so truthful towards him, but I wasn't too bothered. As long as he wasn't telling anyone, I just didn't care much to dwell on it. I seemed to have gone through a catharsis of sorts during the nine days I spent moping in my bedroom. It was an eye opening experience. Wood was not in Hogwarts anymore, so I didn't have to deal with him at all unless home for the holidays. As for the holidays, I could tolerate him for a few weeks at a time. Besides, he'd be looking to join a professional quidditch team now anyway. All in all, life was looking up for me and hopefully this Cup would pass without any drama between Wood and me. It was in both of our best interests.

Dinner rolled by quickly as we walked around the grounds making sure we knew where everything was for tomorrow. Mum's life motto seemed to be "you can never be too prepared." She made us do this every single cup. Dinner was, as always, with the Woods. They had the tent next to us. Even at a Quidditch camp ground, Wood was my neighbor. It seemed like an inevitable curse I had to sling along with me wherever I went.

"So, England – Transylvania and Scotland – Luxembourg tomorrow, what do you guys think?" Sean started while chomping down on some food.

"I think we might actually have a shot this time around," Dad muttered completely serious, but once he noticed our bewildered faces burst into a fit of laughter.

"When have we ever had a shot at cups?" Wood said while laughing and shaking his head dismissively.

It's true; we never did do much at cups. Well, to be fair, we were shite – there really was no other way of putting it. One could hope that someday we'd finally do well at a cup, but you'd have to be one hell of an optimist for that. We knew better than to expect anything, rather choosing to side with the Irish or the Bulgarians for the duration of the Cup since it's always more fun to root for someone who would actually have a shot at winning. Naturally, I would root for Ireland – secretly wishing that Aiden Lynch would see me amongst the masses and sweep me away on his broom and we would elope. It was a nice thought.

When dinner had finished, I retreated back into my room as the festivities continued outside. The Irish with the tent in front of ours were drinking and yelling and celebrating as if Ireland had already won the Cup, but I needed sleep. Tomorrow I would be on my feet all day.


	21. Chapter 21: Scotland - Luxembourg

A/N: I know I haven't uploaded in ages, but uni has been occupying most of my time. I hope I can make it up to you with this long-ish and hopefully exciting chapter. It was really fun writing it. Enjoy, and as always, rate and review! :D

Scotland – Luxembourg

"C'mon, Rye, we'll be late! We'll miss the start!" Kieran yelled as he tugged at my sleeve and dragged me towards the pitch. Wood was leading the expedition, holding onto Kieran's arm loosely to make sure that he didn't lose us amongst the crowd and yet he remained focused on making the beginning and pushing through as quickly as possible.

"Don't worry; we'll be there on time!" I said, trying to calm Kieran. England had already lost to Transylvania 390-10 and Scotland would soon probably follow a similar fate. As I had mentioned, countries from these parts (with the exception of Ireland) did not fare well on these tournaments.

"Riley, will you hurry up already?" Wood asked, his voice stern as ever. If there was one thing you did not want to get Wood angry over it was quidditch. Well, to be honest, it was anything really considering his complete and utter lack of a sense of humour, but quidditch by far took the cake. I picked up my pace as much as I could while Kieran aided my tired feet by tugging at my sleeve. We trudged up the stairs through the crowd, trying to get to our spots. Wood, being the burliest of the three, led us up the stairs.

"Oh there you are! We were wondering where you were," Morgan yelled as she hushed us towards the bannister. "The game is about to start."

"Riley was being slow. Kieran and I did our best to get here on time," Wood said while I rolled my eyes in response. Kieran had already forgotten all about being almost late as his hands were glued to the bannister, his eyes like saucers as he stared in amazement at the Scottish entry.

The game hadn't even begun and already we were losing 40-0. As predicted, Scotland would follow England in a sequence of stellar results from countries from the British Isles.

"So, what did you think of the game?" Dad asked as we left.

We had been slaughtered by Luxembourg. It was painful to watch; therefore it was no surprise that most of us cringed at Dad's question.

"Our seeker, whatshisname, had that great Wronski Feint somewhere towards the end of the match," Mum interjected.

"Yeah, pretty much the only good move we had the entire game," Wood said. It was true. Even I had to agree with Wood for once.

"It was a terrible game," I said, while nodding my head at what Wood had said. We walked back to the tents, Kieran going back to sleep and my parents stopping at Woods for a drink, or ten, knowing my parents.

I felt like taking a walk. There was no way I could sleep straight after a game since the adrenaline and excitement of it all wouldn't wear off for a while. I shuffled around the sofas awkwardly as I thought where I would go. Options were limited here. I told my parents I'll be out for a bit of fresh air.

"Alright, sweetie, just don't be too long," Mum yelled as I left the tent.

Making it through the crowds in the tent area was always the most difficult, especially after a match when everyone would be retreating to sleep.

"Hold up, Rye," a voice behind me yelled. I turned around instinctively only to see Wood jogging along to catch up with me.

"Oh great, Wood, I was thinking what I was missing and then I realized - an annoying arsehole to make me wish I didn't take a walk in the first place. Did Mum send you here?"

"Your sarcasm won't deter me from the walk. Just pretend I'm walking next to you rather than with you," he said nonchalantly before continuing. "And no, I came here on my own accord."

"That's great. You can leave now."

"Nope, I like taking walks next to you," he said.

"Since when?"

"Since I found out you fancy me," he said whilst grinning.

"Not anymore, Wood," I replied sternly.

"Admit it, Harlow – you want me."

"Is this why you came along?"

"More or less," he said, but then changed his mind. "Well, not really, I thought I'd make an attempt at proper conversation during a friendly walk around the camping grounds –"

"— Right."

"— But you're, as always, being a bitch and you fail to see what a friendly and inviting person I can be."

We walked around in silence as the festive lights hovered over our heads. The reds and oranges and greens bobbed around in the wind as we ducked to escape them. If Wood was attempting to be friendly and inviting, there had to be an ulterior motive involved. He had yet to properly tease me about my more than shameful confession to him. He did make a few jabs here and there, but with the lifetime supply of material I gave him, it simply wasn't enough. That is, unless he had something big planned.

The squishing noise of our footsteps trudging along the muddy, once perfectly green, floor was silenced by the noise of people celebrating.

"You want to get some firewhiskey?" Wood asked after a prolonged silence. And there it was his ulterior motive. I had to see what way I could play this to cause myself the least amount of harm I could. He did, after all, have a lot of ammo on me. A straight and direct approach would probably be the best way to go, perhaps laced with a joke in there to sound casual.

"No," I replied. "Last time I had a bit to drink around you it didn't end well."

"Oh come on, it's your birthday in a few days!" he argued. "Do something a little fun before you can actually do it legally!"

"Is Oliver Wood, the one person I know who always adheres to rules, asking me to do something somewhat illegal?" I said while raising my eyebrow.

"It's hardly illegal. It's underage drinking, not murder. Nobody gives a shit about underage drinking."

"No, but I give a shit about not repeating my mistake from a while ago."

"Oh come on, it wasn't all bad. Of course, you wouldn't know since you don't remember."

"That seems to be the only upside of that entire event."

We were in front of a stand selling firewhisky when Oliver pulled my hand back so that I stood facing him.

"Two, three drinks max. I promise that I will not allow a repeat of last time."

He cautiously edged towards me as he stared directly into my eyes. My expression, I could only imagine, was something akin to a deer in the headlights. I could hear his breathing, calm and evenly paced as always. His breath mixed with the cool evening air and danced around me. He would not take his eyes off me as I did my best to avert my glance, preferring to stare at the lightshow taking place above our heads as my heart slowly picked up its rhythm. I did my best to stay collected in the uncomfortable situation, but my body gave me away by mimicking my chaotic thoughts. I tried to breathe like he did, but the lump in my throat made it impossible to take in air, so my gasps for air came out sounding even worse than they would have. My gaze was erratic, never staying focused on one thing for longer than a second. Perhaps my slight, anxious shakes were the easiest to pass off as caused by the cold, but Wood knew better.

It was a contest, a game of sorts, like everything annoyingly is with him – who would win? Would I, in my attempt to feign distraction and remain cool, or would he in his persistence? The contest was rigged – both he and I knew the answer to that question before he had even chosen to stare at me.

"Fine," I said.

"What was that? I didn't hear."

I cleared my throat, trying to cough up the invisible lump.

"Fine, I'll do it. But I'll have no more than three drinks."

His mouth cracked into a cheesy grin, but it seemed malicious coming from him. He thought that he had gotten confirmation of what he already knew – that I still fancied him. He knew that I would be set on proving him wrong. It seemed that Wood had it all figured out; the only thing he had overlooked was that I had given up on playing these stupid childish games.

"Two firewhiskys," Wood yelled as he pulled some money from his pocket. I was still buried in same spot where he had left me, unable to move. Wood had once again left me dumbfounded by his nauseating little acts.

"Well, are you coming?" he said as he turned towards me, pulling me out of my daze. He was already away from the bar and walking over to the grassy area. I muttered something quickly as stared at my feet, hoping they would start working soon. Like a toddler taking its first tentative steps, my first steps were small, calculated. Even at his most annoying, Wood still managed to turn me into mush, turn my mind into complete pandemonium and make me to act a complete fool.

Wood had in the meantime found a grassy spot where the two of us could sit, slightly further from the chatter and banter of the crowd. I crossed my legs as I sat next to him, avoiding eye contact at all costs.

"I thought you'd never come," he joked and shoved the cup in my face.

"Firewhisky in a plastic cup – classy," I said. It was an attempt to break the ice and return it to the somewhat civilized atmosphere from before. What puts people in a friendlier mood than a lighthearted joke? But as Wood gazed off towards the trees marking the end of the camp, I would learn a lot more.

I drank the first one up quickly as if parched rather than incredibly uncomfortable. The Wood brought another which I downed with equal speed. And then another.

"I shouldn't have anymore," I proclaimed as I laid down on the ground, my legs at a perfect 90 degree angle as if I was about to do a sit-up as I clutched my drink and tried to keep it from spilling. The sky was beginning to become out of focus, the screams of everyone around us had become quiet and distorted and the whisky was becoming more drinkable. I knew what followed after the initial hit of the alcohol to my brain, and somewhat regretted drinking it all so fast, but I had no ways of stopping it now.

"The deal was no more than three, and this is your third," Wood said, his face disappearing behind the cup as he took a gulp.

"I know why you did this," I started. It was happening, like it always did. Alcohol seems to make my mouth part from my brain and I just end up saying whatever it wishes even if my brain doesn't necessarily agree.

"Please, educate me, Harlow." He took another gulp, but seemed disinterested.

"You wanted to sleep with me again and thought that this is the easiest way."

This sparked his interest as he looked at me. I was still focused on the sky, but from the corner of my eye could see his changing facial expressions as if in deliberation with himself. He looked away again to focus his thoughts and what he was going to say.

"I didn't know then that you were so drunk. You might find this hard to believe, but I'm really not the sort of guy who would do that," he said. His words were well-thought out unlike my incoherent rambles.

"I do find that hard to believe, Wood," I replied through giggles while lifting my head ever so slightly to make it easier to take a sip of my remaining drink. I didn't even know why I was giggling, but I couldn't stop myself.

Luckily Wood was there to stop me so I didn't have to do it myself. He took one last gulp of his drink, crushed the cup in his hand and tossed it to the side before lowering himself so that his torso was on top of mine. His arms were alongside mine, enveloping me while his stomach grazed mine every time it expanded as he inhaled.

His facial expression was stern as he studied my features.

"If you're so convinced that I did this to sleep with you, why did you agree to it?" he said.

Much like for my sarcastic remarks and protests to his ideas, Wood had found a cure for my blabbering mouth. It whimpered in defeat, opening as if to say something but no words came out.

His stare slowly glided down from my eyes to my nose before finally resting on my lips. Ever so carefully he inched his way towards me until his lips were just above mine. The shiver from before had returned as I tried to control the nervous shakes. I instinctively shut my eyes as I felt his breath warming my lips. His lips grazed mine, but he pulled his head back immediately, as if afraid to finish what he had set his mind to just seconds earlier. It was not like him to hesitate. I lay there, my head motionless, but my body in a series of short shaking fits as he hovered above me. Every part of my body felt tense.

We remained as if glued in those positions for a while before I opened my eyes to see whether I was missing anything here. Wood was looking at me and pulled his head back a bit to get a more focused view of my face. Then he furrowed his brow before allowing his hands to push himself off the ground.

"C'mon, they'll start worrying about where we are if we don't get back soon and you've had a bit to drink," he said, but this time around it was his gaze which was erratic while my eyes remained focused on him. He outstretched his arms towards me to help me get up, but my brain just wasn't processing anything that was going on.

I slowly lifted my arms and brought them to his. My arms felt heavy and lifting them was a chore. It was as if they were not a part of my body, something which I had control over. The mute button was switched off as the festive banter resumed and the wind had started blowing again.

Wood pulled me up and glanced at me quickly.

"You look cold, you're shaking; do you want my coat?"

I shook my head 'no', but he had already unzipped his coat and taken it off. He placed it over my shoulders ever so gently as if I was some porcelain doll about to break. I gave him a quick nod to thank him, my vocal chords straining, aching and failing to produce a sound of any sorts. We walked back to my tent in a painful silence and, as soon as we were at the entrance of it, Wood turned on his heel and bolted for his own tent.

"You two were gone for a while," Mum observed, but I wasn't really paying attention. I just didn't know if it was due to the alcohol or the confusion or a combination of the two.


End file.
